Neighbourhood
by Mrs.A.x
Summary: Everyone knew of Marian's sister except no-one spoke of the family disgrace. Upon the death of Marian, the family inheritance has one surviving heir and Eleanor must return to Nottingham. GuyOC
1. Chapter 1

**Fire and Ice**

**This is my first Robin Hood fic and I've been working on it for a while so enjoy!**

**I'll try and upload the next chapter in a week or two but I'm making no promises.**

**I still haven't decided whether it'll be GuyxOC or RobinxOC, maybe after later chapters you guys can suggest lol we'll have a vote**

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Eleanor sat in the carriage gazing out at the passing English countryside and bored. When Eleanor had turned twelve her father sent her to live with her aunt in Kent and then later moved to Dijon in France. It's not that he couldn't care for her she was just a nuisance, she had never been one to be quiet or ladylike this trait was possibly the only thing she had in common with her elder sister, Marian. They shared very few similarities infact, Marian had always thought before doing anything whereas Eleanor jumped into a situation without thinking of the consequences. Marian acted as society expected her but Eleanor did whatever she pleased.  
Eleanor had always been against the idea of relocation, primarily because her aunt was dull enough to bore a nun but the fact that her oh-so-perfect sister was allowed to stay did annoy her somewhat.  
However, her time away from Knighton had given her time to reflect, being subjected to mindless gossip and giggly-pitched friends had taught her to hide. She had learned to smile and act accordingly at dinner while underneath the table she stuck a fork into the back of her hand, and above all learnt the art of listening. Yes staying with auntie has changed her; she had grown from the naive girl reckless to the world into a young woman with a taste for scandal and far more dangerous then she could have ever hoped to be. 

Finally after six long years of purposefully annoying and aggravating her aunt, Eleanor had been mysteriously called home. To say her aunt looked relieved as the carriage pulled away would be a mild understatement and Eleanor knew there would be some form of punishment for her treatment of her aunt. But she also knew her father, he would not be harsh, possibly a lecture she could tactfully ignore or a disappointed look she could forget.  
The jostling of the carriage shook Eleanor from her daze, the surroundings began to look familiar and soon she would be home. Strangely no one had contacted her, no letters or visits, but Eleanor still found her mind wandering, has Robin returned from the Holy Lands yet? Has he married Marian yet or did Marian marry Guy?  
Guy...Guy she thought. True he was older then she, true he was infatuated with her sister but that didn't stop Eleanor from liking him. He had been a favourite of hers and friend, even if it was a ploy to bring himself closer to Marian.  
During her stay with auntie, Eleanor had let her thoughts wander over Guy many times. The images of him declaring his love for her by the lake, or taking her roughly in the stables had entertained her many a time when she had been subjected to sitting with her aunt practising embroidery or music.  
'Ah yes, it's good to be home' her final thought as the carriage slowed.

Sir Guy of Gisborne stepped out of Knighton Hall as his men behind him emptied the contents of the home onto wagons. With both Sir Edward and Marian dead, Gisborne had a mind to claim Knighton as his own.

Marian he thought; she had haunted him since his return from the holy lands. Every night when he sought the comfort of sleep her wrought faced devastated his dreams, painful memories of her dying racked his mind for there was no escaping his conscience and the fact that he had killed her. Gisborne tightened his fist in frustration, hearing her final words "_I love Robin Hood_" replay in his head. Gisborne was quickly distracted from his torment by a black carriage swiftly approaching the house.  
The carriage slowed and came to halt outside the house. The footman opened the carriage door, then from the darkness inside a young woman emerged. Her hair was long, hazelnut curls that reached between her shoulder blades and fell towards her face. Her ivory skin accentuated her dark chocolate eyes. If Gisborne hadn't seen Marian die he would have sworn it was she who stood before him.  
"Sir Guy, why are men emptying my house?" Eleanor coolly asked as she descended the steps. Gisborne stood in awe of her, it took a moment before he recognized her as the girl he once knew; she seemed so much like Marian but couldn't be more different. She had the same square face but something made the cheeks bones more defined and her lips were plumped in a constant thoughtful pout. The final feature to separate the sisters was Eleanor's eyes, they were dark with a hint of devious and fire danced across them. She was almost more beautiful.  
Gisborne waved his hand signalling for his men to stop and replace the items, but his eyes followed her as she walked past him and entered the house.  
"Where is my father?"  
"I..." he stuttered, his eyes still locked on her and taking time to measure how Eleanor had blossomed. His eyes wandered over her, from the soft curve of her hip to the swell of her bosom as she breathed. Suddenly Gisborne was all too aware of the angry stab coming from Eleanor's eyes.  
"I'm afraid he's dead."  
Eleanor raised her eyebrows in surprise but no real distress fell upon on her features.  
"You are not upset?" He asked.  
"No, not really. Then again after being banished for six years, you do tend to lose feeling for the people left behind." Eleanor's mouth curved into a cruel smirk, her remarked was aimed at Gisborne and how he had 'forgot' to reply to her letters.  
Eleanor walked away to speak to a servant and soon trunks were being offloaded the carriage and taken into the house.  
"Well at least that explains the unexplained recall." She sighed as she rejoined Gisborne outside.  
"What about my sister then? Finally married her or did she run off with Locksley?" Eleanor giggled to herself; she couldn't help but tease Gisborne. Watching him squirm was more then entertaining.  
"No I did not make her my wife. She too is regrettably dead...Now if you excuse me, I must return to Nottingham" The atmosphere between the two quickly grew heavy under tension and Eleanor could tell she had struck a nerve. Without saying another word Gisborne mounted his horse and led his men away from Knighton Hall.

Eleanor stood leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed and watched him, observing every of his movements and gestures. Gisborne and his men sped off into the distant unaware of Eleanor's eyes locked on him until he disappeared behind the trees.  
Eleanor turned and wandered into her home. Not her fathers or her sisters, it was all hers. Her footsteps echoed as she climbed the stairs and the servants below were the only sound to be heard except the squealing of the un-oiled hinges on her bedroom door. As she surveyed her old room she couldn't help but notice how small it was compared to what she had been used to in France. Then a thought crossed her mind, she was no longer under her father's jurisdiction, now she was the lady of the house and therefore had right to the master room.  
Eleanor walked into her father's room; it was still littered with his possessions. She quickly ordered that the bed be stripped, the room aired and cleaned, and that all the remainders of Sir Edwards's things be sold.

Servants hurried in and out of the room carrying bed sheets and clothes among other things back and fourth while Eleanor retreated to Marian's room. She had always loved the view from this room; it caught the sunset so beautifully so that the whole room would fill with a celestial pink glow. Strangely, Eleanor felt a twinge of grief at the loss of her sister. She paused for a moment sitting on the window ledge and silently paid her respects.  
The scent of damp drifted in the air showing the first sign of rain.  
'Ah yes, it's good to be home'

To be continued….

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**  
Feel free to tell me what you think**

**See you in a week!**


	2. Chapter 2

Okay first thing first. Sorry it's taken a while to update I was on holiday and couldn't access a computer, however, I did mange to complete the second and third chapters, and started work on the fourth.  
Before we start, I best warn you I did not see the last episode of season two so if any of the details are wrong or sketchy I apologise.

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_Eleanor retreated to Marian's room. She had always loved the view from this room; it caught the sunset so beautifully so that the whole room would fill with a celestial pink glow. Strangely, Eleanor felt a twinge of grief at the loss of her sister. She paused for a moment sitting on the window ledge and silently paid her respects.  
The scent of damp drifted in the air showing the first sign of rain.  
'Ah yes, it's good to be home'_

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Meanwhile in Sherwood Forest, Robin and his outlaws were still recovering from their stint in the Holy Land. Will and Djaq had remained in the Holy Land leaving Robin, Much, Little John and Allan to pick up the pieces.  
Marian's death had affected them all, Robin the most; now he did little but lie and dream of Marian while slowly plotting Gisborne's demise. Since their return sleep Robin had barely slept, neglected to shave or wash and had hardly eaten. He had grown thin, trapped inside his own mind haunted by visions of Marian dying in his arms.  
"Master, I've made a stew..." Much said holding a spoonful of the hot broth to Robin's nose hoping to stir some reaction. He felt John's hand clasp his shoulder.  
"Leave him be" John spoke softly, his voice tinged with concern. He led Much away and sat down by the fire, Much pushed his stew around the bowl with his spoon while Allan finished off his second helping.  
"Not being funny or anything..."  
"Allan." John interrupted  
"Hm?"  
"Shut up."

Robin could hear the argument beginning to brew and even though his friends were sitting a few feet away he felt as though they were in separate worlds. Cautiously he got to his feet, his legs numb from lying for so long. Step by shaky step Robin pulled himself to his men.  
"Master!" Much leapt to his feet at the sight of his master finally out of bed. Quickly he grabbed a bowl and ladled in spoonfuls of food. He held it out for Robin but he continued past his men as though they weren't even there.  
Robin's stumbled turned to walk, walk to run. The trees and bushes flashed past Robin's eyes in a blur, the only sounds he was aware of were his breath, his heartbeat pounding in his head and the two words playing over and over like a torturous mantra.

'Marian... Knighton... Marian... Knighton'

Robin hid in the shadow of the bushes and watched on as Sir Guy and his men rode past. His grip on his sword tightened, the burning rage in his heart demanded that he should kill Gisborne. He quickly counted the men; seven, eight against one, an unfair advantage but what did it matter Robin had little left to live for and as long as he was able to drive his sword through Gisborne's heart, he'd die a happy man.

And then he saw her.

She stood leaning against the doorframe of Knighton Hall watching as Gisborne left. The same delicate feminine physique and glossy brown hair. Robin's breath drew short as she watched, amazed by her. He thought himself mad. He had been there, held her in his arms and listened to her final breath, she couldn't be here, Marian was dead.  
She soon turned and went inside; Robin inched closer to the house. He had to know who this mysterious woman was; maybe Marian hadn't died, maybe by some miracle she had been bought back to him.  
As Robin approached the door movement in Marian's bedroom window caught his eye. She sat there now, bathing in the warm glow of the dying sun that would soon disappear under the horizon. She, whoever she may be, was totally oblivious to Robin's presence allowing him to observe her. Much to his disappointment she wasn't Marian yet something was familiar about her, not just the resemblance but something else, something lost deep in the past. Suddenly she vanished; worried the he may have been seen Robin hid in shadows.

Back inside Marian's room Eleanor opened the doors of Marian's closet. Unfortunately her own clothes were yet to be unpacked, making her grateful that she and Marian had always been similar dress sizes. She picked out a blue dress and quickly changed from her travelling clothes; the dress felt like silk after so many days of wearing coarse linen, Eleanor felt like herself again and less like the dirt clod pilgrim.  
She brushed her hair through with a shell comb she had watched Marian use countless times in their youth. Nothing seemed to have changed since all those years ago; it was still the same house, the furniture and draperies were the same, even some of the servants were those who had served Eleanor's family even if there were a few more lines on their foreheads. She listened to the servants hustle about the house like little ants and she was their Queen then admits the chaos came the sound the sound of the horses outside.  
Eleanor had raised a pony in her final year at Knighton; Lupus, he would have grown into a fine stallion by now. She rushed down the stairs, out the door of her home and to the stables. Her father had promised to keep him, could he have kept his promise after all these years she wondered. However, as she entered the stable she was disappointed when she could not see his perfect grey coat. Inside she could feel her blood boiling to the point of bursting. In a spur moment of rage Eleanor balled her fist and punched a sizable dent in the rotten wood. The noise startled something in the shadows; a beautiful black horse stepped into the light with eyes like lightning.  
It was most likely a gift from Sir Guy to Marian, perhaps he would be grateful for its return. Eleanor examined the horse; the hind legs looked powerful no doubt this was a military horse born and bred to run. She saddled the horse, during which it remained perfectly still another clue to its military rearing. Having its spirit completely broken was a military practice to make the horse ride able in battle, but such a pity since a beast with fire in its belly is so much more fun.  
A twig snapped behind Eleanor. She maintained her composure while slowly reaching for the pitchfork that stood a few inches away. Another twig broke this time closer to Eleanor; she now had a firm grip on the pitchfork and spun on the spot ready to face any would-be assassin. Nothing greeted her sight except an empty stable but there, she saw something besides horses lurking in the shadows.  
Eleanor set the pitchfork down as the shape emerged from the light revealing itself to a man; a man Eleanor had never took to liking because of his ever optimistic attitude.  
"Locksley" She sighed. Her eyes quickly danced over his dishevelled look; the unshaven face, ragged clothes and the smell that should have give him away for a five mile radius.  
"A little worse for wear aren't we?" She teased turning back to her horse. Robin allowed her rudeness to wash over him because with every taunt he knew she was not Marian. Not Marian. Should he welcome that fact? The final hope dashed before his eyes, for a moment Robin felt the hollow sting of loneliness but he couldn't alow it to control him any longer. For weeks since their return it had controlled him and for what? No doubt the Sheriff and the Black Knights were already scheming.

Robin Hood needed to return.

"Well, when I left home it was of my own accord…Ele" Robin smirked, already he could see her face twitch with annoyance, she had always taken teasing far too personally.  
"It's Eleanor" She snapped  
"Take it you didn't marry my sister then? Not surprised with you looking like a beggar" Eleanor had overstepped the mark, she could see the hurt in his eyes when she turned back to face him. A part of her wanted to take pride in leaving Locksley speechless but something told her that Marian's death had more implications then simple mourning and burial.  
"How did she die?" Eleanor was loathed to ask but the inquisitive side of her nature demanded it.  
"You know she's.."  
Eleanor nodded in response  
"She was killed in the Holy Land…By Sir Guy." Robin's voice trailed off almost into a quiver on the verge of becoming a sob. Silently Eleanor mused over this information, it would account for Gisborne's detachment when she met him earlier but it wasn't enough. Eleanor climbed atop the horse.  
"Where are you going?"  
"Nottingham of course" Eleanor willed the horse forward but when she reached the stable entrance she slowed the horse and called back to Robin.  
"Oh Robin, before we meet again. Bathe" At that Eleanor kicked her heels and the creature set of at a terrific speed, soon there was nothing ahead of them but open road and Nottingham castle gradually revealing itself on the horizon.

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**So Ele's in Nottingham, what will happen next?**

**You'll find out in a week :D**


	3. Chapter 3

**On re-reading my last chapter I must apologise, it most definitely wasn't as good as the previous chapter, in fact it was confusing. However, this could be down to the fact that I didn't give the chapter to my friend to proof read! If I've done my job right this chapter should be much more straightforward. Anyway, here is the next chapter!! **

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"_Oh Robin, before we meet again. Bathe" At that Eleanor kicked her heels and the creature set of at a terrific speed, soon there was nothing ahead of them but open road and Nottingham castle gradually revealing itself on the horizon._The clatter of hooves on the cobble stones rattled around the castle courtyard as Gisborne and his men returned. Gisborne dismounted his horse leaving it to be led to the castle stables by a groom; he climbed the steps making his way inside the castle to the main hall where he would find the Sheriff, already he could feel the anger and frustration swell deep within.

"You knew she'd be returning! I just made a complete fool of myself and you knew!" Gisborne burst into the hall, flinging the large oak door aside while bellowing at the Sheriff.  
"Gisborne" The Sheriff beamed, directing Gisborne's attention to the figure with hazelnut curls reaching between her shoulder blades, sat near one of the stained glass windows. Eleanor sat and smiled, smugly, at Gisborne the look of victory making itself home on her features.  
"How did you reach Nottingham before my men and I?" He asked, genuinely puzzled. He and his men had left Knighton long before she would have even had chance to saddle a horse, and they hadn't passed her on the road. It was though she had vanished and reappeared in Nottingham out of thin air.  
"Well. Maybe I didn't stop enroute to evict an entire village or threaten a helpless old woman." She smirked, once again stinging her superior male counterpart with her wit. Eleanor rose from her place and turned to address the Sheriff.  
"Considering I've been sat in a carriage all day, I will take a turn around the castle battlements and leave you two boys to discuss 'business'." She curtsied.  
"M' lord… Guy." She said quickly flashing her dangerous eyes at Gisborne before coolly leaving the room, fully aware of Gisborne's eyes wandering after her.  
"Now, now Gisborne. What happened with the other sister" Sheriff Vasey quipped as he sat and laughed to himself at Guy's misfortune. Gisborne sighed in both frustration and obedience, and quietly threw himself into the seat beside the Sheriff.  
"Aww did Marian hurt whittle Guy's heart? HA!" The Sheriff chuckled as he scoffed down grapes.  
"If she did, it would have nothing to do with my current unease"  
Suddenly the Sheriff stopped eating once he saw an opportunity to mock.  
"La de dar de dar. 'My unease'. Well if you had captured Robin Hood like I told you to, you'd still be chasing after Marian and I might get some peace and quiet around here instead of you moping around all day!"  
The Sheriff smirked.  
"But if it is 'frustration'... there are other ways to alleviate that besides from running after outlaws…" His eyes darted to the serving wench bringing a pitcher of wine, hinting at Gisborne's affair with a kitchen maid a few years ago.  
"Say for example there was a pretty girl staying in the castle. Better still; a pretty girl that looks like Marian… Weren't you and Eleanor 'friends' before she was sent to France?" He grinned.

It was true, Sir Guy and Eleanor had been friends, well more then friends or so Eleanor had been led to believe. She had always favoured Gisborne and was rather obvious about it. There wasn't a huge age difference between them, big enough but considering that many girls were married and happy mothers made much younger then Eleanor had been at the time. It was the principal that governed most marriages;

'Old enough to bleed,  
Old enough to breed.'

The night after Marian had refused Guy for the first time and declared she loved and was already engaged to Robin; Guy had gotten a _little _drunk. He wandered through Nottingham castle, wrought with desire, and stumbled upon Eleanor who was staying at the castle with her father.  
She was naïve and believed the intoxicated Gisborne when he told her he loved her and sought to make her his wife. She gave up her honour to him willingly under the impression that it didn't matter because she would be his wife.  
Then she was sent away to her aunt. Letters arrived from her; Gisborne may have read the first then discarded the others to resume pursuing Marian. He forgot about Eleanor, and one day the letters stopped arriving completely. Did he notice? No.

The sound of the Sheriff giggling brought Gisborne out his daze.  
"France. Urgh, she probably caught some social disease you know what those French are like."  
In disgust at the Sheriff's remarks and at himself, Gisborne stormed out of the room but not before hearing the Sheriff call after him;  
"She always was the wild card of the two" followed by his hollow laughter that echoed off the thick stone walls.

Guy stomped out into the courtyard, his mind burning with hatred at the Sheriff's suggestion and his own memories that came, each stabbing like a blunt knife.  
Eleanor had so many reasons to hate him; the empty promise of love and marriage, being fooled into sleeping with him, the ignored letters, his being the reason she was sent to France in the first place. No doubt she would still be sore at him, she had never been one to forgive and forget.  
Gisborne's eyes fell on the black horse tied to the single tree that stood in the courtyard a couple of feet in front of him. He recognized his stables signature breed, this horse had been one of his many gifts to Marian, it was surprising that he hadn't noticed the creature when he first arrived.  
Gisborne was no fool and it didn't take a genius to figure how the creature had been brought back to him. He walked over and stroked the beast's mane, memories of Marian come flooding back to him, filling him with grief and sorrow. In desperation he looked to the skies hoping to find some answer hidden in then clouds but when his eyes went to the shades of blue he caught sight of something that commanded attention of both man and beast.

Eleanor stood high on the battlements, looming forward watching over everything just as an angel does from heaven. The sun peaked out from behind the stormy clouds and all of a sudden she was shining with divine light of creation. For what seemed an age he gazed up in awe of her but there was no mistaking the look of disapproval she wore when noticing the alien attention. Gisborne felt compelled to go to her. He made his way up the stone stairways and hollow corridors irregardless of whether he would appear callous or caring.

When he stepped out onto the battlements Eleanor had resumed her vigil over the town below and paid him no attention yet she was fully aware of his presence while in her mind she had already begun to work her words.  
"Eleanor…"  
He back remained turned to him.  
"So you do remember my name?" She snapped swiftly whipping around to face him, her eyes alight with raging hatred.  
"Four months I spent writing to you. Four months of believing you would save me from my dull life trapped with auntie! Do you have any idea what it was like; to be surrounded by brainless idiots and no word from the man whom I thought would make me his wife!? And why? Because he was too busy chasing after my sister." She hissed then there was silence and the distant rumble of thunder came from the distance. Eleanor turned away from him again, she had to calm herself. She knew to win a battle of words one must remain composed and although her remark had left Gisborne speechless, any further aggression would hold no merit.  
"It was a misadventure I can assure you" Guy muttered admitting defeat.  
"That, I could have told you." Eleanor replied her voice returning to its own collected state as her rage subsided.  
Eleanor sensed that pressing her own personal issues with Sir Guy would only breed further resentment. She inhaled deeply.  
"How did my sister die?"  
"She followed me to the Holy Lands, an outlaw killed her…" His voice trailed off just as Robin's had in the stables.  
"Did this outlaw have a name?"  
"Locksley."

His reply came as no great shock to Eleanor; while she had met with Sheriff Vasey she had pressed for news and he had been very obliging to inform her that Robin of Locksley had returned from the Holy Lands, and now ran around Sherwood Forest attacking the wealthy to give to the poor under the name of Robin Hood. Well Vasey had told his own version of the story; Robin was mad, the poor were in fact thieves and murderers. Of course he was totally unaware that the tales of Robin Hood had even reached France. True, she doubted these stories as any other word-of-mouth tale, it had been embellished but if Eleanor had not spoke with Robin before her coming to Nottingham maybe she would have believed the Sheriff, then again maybe not.

Aside from the questionable mystery of Robin Hood, Eleanor now faced another dilemma. Robin claimed it was Guy who killed Marian, Guy swears it was Robin. Both enemies and with men who would support their masters' take of events. Who to believe? Who was more trustworthy: the outlaw or the Sheriff's lapdog? The answer would avail itself in time that much she knew, but if she trusts the wrong person now she may put herself in very real danger.  
Eleanor had more reason to hate Gisborne so for now her sympathies would lie with Robin and his merry morons, for now at least.

"Was it my sister's death or refusal to marry you that turned you this cold?" Eleanor commented allowing her voice to be lined with the slightest hint of feeling.  
"People change" Came Gisborne's monotone, mumbled reply.  
Eleanor slowly turned back to him. His face was down cast to the stone, gently she raised his chin and looked into his eyes; those cold, grey, unfeeling eyes. Guy drew his hand up to push her touch away but when he caught her scent drifting in the breeze he had to pause. He looked at her dark, fiery eyes he felt something inside stir but a strange hue descended and all he could see was Marian.  
"You should never have come back" he muttered pushing her hand away. The words had slipped from his mouth and hit them both like daggers before Guy even had the chance to think about what he was saying.  
Guy walked away before he could deal anymore damage and the moment he disappeared inside the castle walls, the heavens opened and a heavy downpour soaked Eleanor; as though the elements were trying to distract her from those emotions that had lain dormant for so long.

Slowly, like a funeral march, Eleanor made her way to her room. By the time she reached the door Marian's blue velvet dress she was wearing was thoroughly drenched. Once inside Eleanor slammed the door behind her, barely noticing the cold for the burning hate that fuelled her veins. She caught a glance of her reflection in the mirror, with her wet hair and the feral blaze in her eyes, she looked positively frightening. Her mind flashed back, picking through all those times Gisborne had hurt her, she muttered a French profanity under her breath. Revenge was owed to her and what better way to claim it then to become the very thing Sir Guy both loved and loathed?

Eleanor approached the small satchel she had brought with her to the castle. Meticulously she unpacked the two dresses and came to the more precious cargo; a small wooden box in which lay her most treasured possessions; tarot cards and a white Venetian masque.  
Of all these things the masque was the most precious. It had turned a whitish cream with antiquity, with a white ribbon to tie around the back of the wearers head. The plaster-maché covered the upper face, the eyes and nose, with cat eye like slots cut out and curls at the eye edges. But what she loved most about it was the small lion's face that blossomed out of the forehead where the boarders met.

She brushed her thumb over the lion's mane and remembered the one summer she had enjoyed in France. A travelling fair had come to Dijon, with it came a troupe of Italian players; actors, musicians and performers. Many welcomed them, something new and exciting in place of the humdrum of the daily routine. Eleanor's aunt on the other hand forbid Eleanor going near them, every venue whether it was an Inn courtyard or open field was barred to Eleanor.  
However, all her aunts measures didn't prevent Eleanor from secretly meeting the Italian actors when the sun set. Nearly every evening she would don breeches and climb down the ivy covered terrace then steal away into the night. By the Suzon river she would find them dancing and singing around a bonfire like heathen worshippers calling out to some foul spirit. No matter their appearance, Eleanor loved them so; the life and energy they bought with them to where ever they roamed.  
From them Eleanor learnt the art of deception, acting, she adored the feeling of being something else besides from herself. In the paint and costumes she could loose herself and escape her past and dull present, she could create a fantasy world in the colours. The thought of running away with them seduced her; the colours, delicate lace, grease paints and flickering candle light. It took very little to convince her, she would leave with them, hidden in the wagon among the props and costumes.  
She had become very close to one of the actors, Amadeo. He was seventeen, two years her senior. He had beautiful shoulder length auburn hair, warm blue eyes and a slender, bronze body. His appearance was loved by both men and women alike, but it was his nature that attracted Eleanor. Something in the way he carried himself was ever so delicious; he had a dark, elegant grace that drew Eleanor to him.  
In his hands she became a marionette on a string, so delicately manipulated by the slightest touch. How she loved him, he was a delightful distraction from her aunt, from her troubles, from Sir Guy.  
The masque was his promise to her; to rescue her from her bleak future with her aunt.  
When Eleanor went to meet them there was no sign of their camps except for the smouldering logs where the glorious bonfire had once burned. Had they been arrested or had her aunt paid them to disappear? Eleanor would never know. There were nights when the sky was clear and the wind breezed lazily across her aunts home, Eleanor could hear their wild, joyous song drifting in the air but Eleanor knew that for all her dreaming they would never return to Dijon.

There was knocking at the door. Eleanor hastily hid the masque back inside the box before tucking it underneath the bed. Maids hurried in with towels, oils and water to fill Eleanor's bath.  
Eleanor closed her eyes as the bathtub filled with warm, steamy water. The rose petals floated on the surface like little boats and just by watching them bob up and down soothed her breaking nerves. Slowly the steam drifted over her, the scent of rose petals and exotic oils filled her lungs with every euphoric sensation known to man. The water barely covered her breasts when she dismissed the maids, and for moment allowed herself to revel in her solitude, something found rarely during her stay with auntie. In the chaos of the maids and hiding her precious box, Eleanor had completely forgotten about revenge, but now her mind was alone a wonderful idea began to form.

A devious grin crept over her face as Eleanor gradually conjured every detail of her marvellous plan.

_To Be Continued…_

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**Ok I know this chapter may have made Guy seem more perverted then I intended him to be but I screwed up the ages in the first chapter so I just had to go with it (luckily everything's relative to the time period)**

**Hope you liked this chapter, not entirely sure what I'm going to write next or when I'll be able to write it as my schedule is currently a traffic jam of school, mock exams, revision, my near non existent social life, and my real exams are in something like 4 weeks …yay..****. If anyone wants to give me feedback whether this was good, please for the love of god do, and if anyone has any ideas where I can go next suggestions are welcome.**

**See you in a week or so.**

**xxx **


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm back!! It's been such a long time since I updated, I hope this was worth the wait. I've had to write this in-between revision and exams, so if you really want the next chapter leave some reviews PLEASE.  
****I've only just realised the huge cock up I made in chapter 1; Guy moving into Knighton when he burnt it down at the beginning of season 2, luckily this helped get passed the mental block I've had lately.  
****So onto the story…**

_A devious grin crept over her face as Eleanor gradually conjured every detail of her marvellous plan._

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Sir Guy lay flat on his bed in Nottingham Castle staring at the ceiling. The bed beneath him slowly soaked up the rain water from his leathers as Guy replayed those terrible words. '_You should never have come back' _He heard again in his ears, each time it came a little more poisonous then the time before. As if she didn't need any more reasons to hate him.  
Suddenly there came a noise, something being broken in the adjacent room. Gisborne abruptly sat up and instinctively reached for his sword. However, what he saw stood at his bed instantly sent his blood cold and an icy shiver tingling up his spine, freezing his breath and stopping his heart in a moment of disbelief.  
The Nightwatchman, like a statue, watched over him. The costume was the same; greenish brown leathers and cloak, except for the mask. What was once a simple strip of leather was now an elaborate white mask.  
For a moment Gisborne was speechless. Gradually he rose from the bed and approached the masked figure.  
"You? But you're dead…" Gisborne gasped, he raised his hand to touch, to prove whether this apparition was real or no. His fingers delicately ran across the real leather covering the left arm, he traced the arm to the neck, and then brushed the cheek. So soft and so very real. Gisborne felt his eyes well and sting with tears; it was not enough. He looked into the masked eyes and kissed their plump lips. It was only a gentle, tender kiss but Gisborne felt love again; not loneliness nor guilt, anger or betrayal, but love. Hot, joyful tears ran freely from his eyes though he did not weep.  
"I am so sorry" He muttered. Gisborne raised his hand again, this time to remove the mask. However, before his hand reached higher then his waist the Nightwatchman had taken hold of his wrist, nails like glass piercing the soft flesh.  
The Nightwatchman pushed him back against the wall, pinning him there with a dagger, worn at the belt, stabbed through the leather cuff of his coat. The Nightwatchman stepped back and took the velveteen purse that sat on a nearby table before turning their attention back to Gisborne.  
Slowly they walked towards him, almost seductively. They stopped so close that as they moved their cheek brushed against Guy's. The Nightwatchman placed a delicate kiss on Gisborne's cheek and then swiftly disappeared into the shadows of Nottingham Castle.

When he was alone, Gisborne pulled out the dagger from the wall with his free hand. Gisborne stood stunned, perplexed over the event he had just witnessed. Then in dim glow of candlelight Gisborne saw a card lying in front of his door. He picked it up; it was a colourful tarot card of 'The Hanged Man'. A man hung from an old, dead tree and behind stood a castle burst into flames. There was a disturbing similarity between the hanged man and Sir Guy. Gisborne had no clue of how to interpret tarot cards; he only knew that the whole prediction came in three cards but if the first appeared an omen of evil, Guy dare not think what may await him.  
Gisborne wandered out into the halls replaying his moment with the Nightwatchman; he went outside of his mind as he drifted sleeplessly through the castle. When he became aware of his surroundings, Gisborne found himself outside Eleanor's bedroom door as though fate had led him there. He rapped his knuckles against the door and pushed it open.  
"Sir Guy!!" Eleanor screeched from under her bed covers. Gisbone's eyes widened when he saw her bare shoulder peek above the covers and embarrassment washed over him as he realised the terrible mistake he had made and rushed back outside.  
"Come" Eleanor called. Gisborne re-entered, Eleanor had pulled on a nightshirt but still sat in bed.  
"Now tell me. Why come barging into my room in the middle of the night? I can't smell smoke nor hear an invading force battering the castle door, pray tell what was so urgent?"  
Still embarrassed Gisborne searched for the words even though he didn't truly know why he had decided to come into her room in the first place.  
"I wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier"  
Eleanor gave a slight laughter.  
"Apology accepted. But you apologise? Are you quite sure you're feeling well?"  
Gisborne smirked in response. True he would still be target for Eleanor's sarcasm and mockery but at least they were reconciled, well almost. He went to leave but as he reached for the door handle he turned back, flashing his smile at Eleanor once more.  
"I do have one request"  
"If I agree may I sleep?" She sighed.  
This time Gisborne chuckled, it was refreshing to converse with someone so blunt but not patronizing like the Sheriff.  
"Stay and make this place more bearable."  
"D'accord monsieur. Now can I sleep?"  
Guy smirked then left, closing the door behind him. The door clicked shut as the latch fell into place; Eleanor listened as the sound of Sir Guy's boots moved from the door and faded away into the corridors. Eleanor's face cracked as it gave way to laughter. Beneath the covers she had hidden the mask, the top half of her costume which she had pulled down to her waist and the purse she had stolen from Gisborne. When sure she was no longer in danger of discovery, Eleanor silently crept out of bed to hide her spoils and costume under the bed, and change fully into a lacy nightgown.  
As she settled back under the covers Eleanor began to wonder; who had Guy thought she had been and why were they supposed to be dead? But more importantly why was Guy sorry to a dead person? As much as Eleanor wanted to remain awake and ponder the mysterious Guy of Gisborne she could feel her eyelids grow heavy and vision blur as fatigue set in.

Gisborne returned to his room still wearing that same smile he had left Eleanor with. Once inside he removed his leathers and prepared for bed, as he lay his head down onto the soft pillow Guy invoked every detail of Eleanor's face and form. The dark chocolate eyes, sparkling with purpose; the generous smile; the way her eyebrows came together in a childish scowl, the sudden flares of high spirits and blasphemous humour. Even the cat like poise of her body he could envisage. Such strength, always such strength and such irrepressible beauty. However, when he closed his eyes a haunting feeling came as he remembered the card, the Hanged Man. Fear replaced his senses when he looked upon the image, the swinging body from the petrified tree branch sent panic piercing through his heart. Gisborne had never been one to believe in superstition or ghost stories but after the visitation, Guy was left doubtful of his own mentality. Sir Guy went to sleep thinking of Marian and whatever revenge her ghost would deal him, and the part that scared him the most; nothing could protect him.

Eleanor woke early the next morning; outside the sky still held onto the last traces of night. The sun had barely crept over the horizon and Eleanor found herself already having to prepare to immediately leave Nottingham and return to Knighton, it was surprising how much work was involved in taking over her father's estate. The rest of the castle was still very much asleep when Eleanor emerged from her room, the halls were silent and the torches burned themselves out, only the far off hustle of work in the city showed signs of life. Outside in the courtyard the atmosphere was the same, deathly quiet except for what went on outside its walls. As Eleanor mounted the black horse she had ridden to Nottingham, she couldn't help but feel as though she was being watched. She kicked her heels sharply and set the horse in motion, the movement bounced Eleanor; a painful reminder that she needed to buy a replacement saddle.  
Gisborne watched as Eleanor darted through the castle gates then lost sight of her as she disappeared into the chaotic streets of Nottingham.  
"Lepers Gisborne, Lepers." The Sheriff's raucous voice drifted in from the shadows. Gisborne sighed with ennui at the thought of another odious lecture from Vasey.  
"Is everything in place for our little signing?"  
Guy nodded in response.  
"Good" The Sheriff grinned, his jewelled tooth adding a sinister notion to his smile.  
"And Gisborne… If anything goes wrong, anything at all." He muttered in a low hushed tone.  
"Your new friend will have the privilege of a 'smaller'residence." The Sheriff disappeared back into the shadows. Guy stared after him; Gisborne felt a long absent fear break over him like a wave does the shore. There would be no reason to persecute Eleanor yet Vasey would hound an innocent woman for the slightest chance of having Robin Hood's head on a spike.  
A clatter came from outside in the courtyard. Gisborne peered out of the window to watch as the Black Knights began to arrive. One by one the carriages pulled into the courtyard and one by one the Black Knights assembled in the Great Hall. When Guy witnessed the final Knight stroll into the castle; remembering his duty to the Sheriff, he made his way to his place in Great Hall unaware of the figure in the shadows watching him.

Robin slipped from shadow to shadow staying on Gisborne's trail. Gisborne stopped outside the Great Hall; the doors were heavily guarded but nothing that Robin couldn't handle however when the doors opened a great roar burst from the room. Twenty armed Black Knights and a number of guards waited inside, who no doubt would rush out at the single sign of an intruder. With a sigh, Robin retreated back out of sight. With every passing minute his frustration grew; inside the Hall the Black Knights were plotting and Robin could do nothing except wait. By force of habit Robin scanned his surroundings; a back door, hole in the stone, beam across the ceiling, anything which would gain him access to the Hall or at the very least allow him to eavesdrop on their plans but the room was secure. Allan's wavering allegiance between Sheriff and Sherwood had supplied the castle with enough information to lock every door and block every passageway the outlaws had once used to infiltrate Nottingham castle.  
Robin sat and waited for what seemed hours, his anticipation making the minutes long. Finally the doors creaked open but inside the Sheriff was closing his speech;

"_Gentlemen, with the signing complete we shall lead England into a new age; where the power of the land is shared among us select few, rather than bumbling fools who would give everything away to a flea ridden, malingering peasant." _

In a parade of black hoods and cloaks, the Black Knights emerged from the Hall in pairs followed by two **very **heavily armed guards carrying a chest. The Sheriff and his lapdog, Sir Guy, were the last to walk out of the Hall. Each Knight went their separate ways, but Guy and the Sheriff lingered.  
"Well that was refreshingly painless." The Sheriff sighed with ease, strolling down the corridor, his lapdog not far behind.  
"See Gisborne, a couple of men and no outlaws. Only you could mess up something so simple" He laughed to himself while Gisborne silently accepted the insults, when really he wanted to run his sword through Vasey's back; and he would were it not for guards they were following to the strong room.  
In the shadows Robin followed and watched with Vasey and Gisborne as the two guards placed the Knight's chest in the strong room; followed by several traps, various locks and other anti-outlaw security measures.  
"_Great" _thought Robin; he knew that whatever was in that chest would have something to do with the fate of England, he also knew that getting said chest would be near impossible.

Once the strong room was secure; the guards, Vasey and Gisborne departed. Robin, sure he would not be seen or caught, approached the door to the strong room. Since his last venture to Nottingham castle security had defiantly improved. Robin studied the door; several locks and hinges that couldn't be popped out of place with the right amount of leverage. This would be easier if Will was still with the gang, however he was now in the Holy Lands with Djaq. The door was thick and no matter how strong Little John was, brute force wouldn't gain them access, it might get them caught but that was about it. They no longer had a specialist lock-picker, the gangs options were wearing thin.

Robin snuck past the guards and made his way out of Nottingham Castle to a tavern where Much and Little John were waiting for him.  
"Robin!" John exclaimed, "You've been gone for hours. What happened?"  
"Well?" Much questioned before Robin had barely sat down.  
"The Black Knights are up to something. There's a chest, I don't know what's in it but I'd bet that whatever's inside is important to them. Only thing is; it's being kept in the strong room, no way of getting in without the keys and three guesses where they are."  
"Gisborne?"  
Robin nodded in reply.  
Suddenly Robin had an idea, surprised he hadn't thought of it earlier. If Eleanor was willing to help them into the castle, they may just stand a chance. Robin leapt up from his seat and darted out of the tavern before his companions could query or object to his actions.

When Eleanor had arrived at Knighton Hall later that morning, the place had been in a state of chaos. The simple task of moving rooms and removing traces of her father had been complicated by the resident house servants not being able to understand the two French servants Eleanor had brought home with her.  
After an afternoon of translating French to English and vice versa, signing deeds and documents, and organising her staff, Eleanor was finally alone with her bath water. The gentle scent of relaxing lavender soothed her nerves and loosened her tense shoulder muscles. In her solitary bliss Eleanor breathed in deep and sighed, closing her eyes to fully enjoy her bath.  
"So, this is you with your hair down?" Robin smirked, the sudden noise frightening Eleanor so that she almost jumped out of her bath. Robin leant on the window with an impish smile; his arms crossed waiting for Eleanor's reaction. Eleanor pulled herself to the side of the tub, hiding her naked form out of Robin's sight.  
"Still haven't bathed? Why doesn't that surprise me?"  
"Ele, as much as I'd love to stand here and trade insults…"  
"Hand me my robe" Ele gestured to a dark grey dressing gown neatly folded on a chair by the window. Still hugging the side of her bath, Ele outstretched her arm to receive the robe as Robin passed it to her.  
"I'm not getting out until you go away."  
"You're such a spoilsport Ele." He said jokingly, Ele splashed water at him. Robin laughed and turned his back to her. Ele wrapped the dressing gown around her and picked up a towel for the wet ends of her hair.  
"Ever heard of the Black Knights?" Robin asked turning back to face Ele.  
"No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me."  
Ele sat, intrigued, listening to Robin tell of the Sheriff's treachery. Robin told the entire story from the day he returned to Nottingham formed his band of outlaws who robbed from the rich and gave to the poor, and a year later rode to the Holy Lands and saved the King's life at the price of loosing Marian.  
"There was a Black Knight meeting today, I tried to get in but the room was heavily guarded. No way in, not unless I wanted to be a head shorter when I came out."  
"So where do I come into this?"  
"My men and I need to get into the castle, undetected."  
"Blah blah blah. 'Ele go back to Nottingham and leave a window open'."  
"Something like that" He muttered, momentarily Robin wandered across the room surveying the walls while Ele brushed her hair.  
"What?" She asked, confused by Robin's sudden interest in the woodwork and plaster.  
"Oh nothing. Gisborne must have spent good money to rebuild this place." Robin saw the curiosity peek in Ele's eyes.  
"No sign of fire damage at all. Then again he did burn it to the ground."  
"Burn? But... everything's the same as when I left. Marian's room was practically untouched!"  
"Marian's room was the only thing to survive the fire, Guy probably thought if he rebuilt her home she might be inclined to marry him. Or maybe he thought he'd have Knighton be his Gisborne." Robin watched on as he slowly manipulated Ele's hate so that he may have an ally inside Nottingham castle. Ele jumped from her place to pace the room before standing at the window, her nails digging into the soft wooden frame.  
"I believe we both have a need for you, and your men, to be inside Nottingham. Tomorrow the chapel window and my window will be open. And, God willing, you shall have your key." She said with a subtle, devious, smile.  
"I do know something"  
Ele turned back to Robin taking a step forward and resting her lips by his ear.  
"Bathe" She whispered. Robin was confused but by the time he understood her meaning, Elenor had already given him a gentle push. Robin was knocked backwards into the edge of the bath, loosing his balance and falling into the lukewarm water. He wiped the water from his eyes to see Ele stand, hands on hips, with a smug smile. Ele pranced out doorway wearing the same smug smile, leaving Robin to bathe.

Robin sat, his hair wet and clothes drenched, knowing that when he returned to camp the first question asked would be "_Why do you smell of lavender?"_

"Oh I hate her"

**Finally!! I hope this was worth the wait. All my exams are over so hopefully I should have more time, however, I've now got coursework to do XS. I've ready got an idea of what is going to happen in the next chapter so fingers crossed I'll update the story at the beginning of July!**

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	5. Chapter 5

**Helllloo again, I come bearing another chapter! I am soooo sorry it's taken so long for an update, have been suffering writer's block and got a little too preoccupied by Photoshop :D  
****Before we have fun (and I know most people don't read these little blurb thingies) I can see this fic going on for a while and I'm putting a lot of time into writing it. So I would really appreciate it if more people commented, registered or a guest I don't care, I just want to know people value the effort I'm putting in.  
****ANYWAY...  
****There's some French in here, not completely sure translated it properly, the English version is at the end of the story.**

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Quietly Eleanor remained in the castle's chapel waiting for the priest to leave. The old man shuffled about stubbing out candles and organising icons; Eleanor could feel her feet grow numb from where she had been kneeling for so long.  
"Did you want confession my child?"  
With her head bowed, Eleanor rolled her eyes, longing for the old man to leave.  
"No father; my thoughts are for my departed."  
The priest gave Ele an empathetic nod then scuttled away at last, leaving Eleanor alone. The church, like many Catholic places of worship, was adorned with stained glass portraits of saints and promises of sinners' damnation on every wall. She approached the wall of windows to the pious scorn of Saint Peter and Saint Paul.  
"Oh, now don't look at me like that" She said with a mean smirk. Eleanor lifted the west window latch, pushing the window ajar so that it could be opened further from outside. From the gap the golden light of a dying sun flooded in, drawing a gold dagger of light across the chapel floor. The summer sun was slowly setting, signalling that Eleanor only had an hour or less before Robin and his men arrived, she would have to act swiftly. Gisborne would be with the Sheriff about now leaving Eleanor roughly half an hour for Eleanor to steal the key from his room; unless he kept it on his person, then things would become complicated. With little time to loose Eleanor turned her back on the saints to continue her mission.

Eleanor locked her bedroom behind her. Now in a state of determined rage, driven by revenge Eleanor transformed into her masked alter ego. In her head a fearsome mantra played over to the rhythm of a beating drum;

_I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings ruin. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over and through me. And when my fear is gone I will turn to face fear's path, and only I will remain._

The leathers glided across Eleanor's soft, supple skin; wrapping to her frame yet disguising those assets which would expose her to be woman. At her belt, Eleanor placed daggers and slipped smaller blades in the back of her boots and one inside her left cuff. She, unlike her much loved sister, wasn't afraid get blood on her hands nor was she afraid to die. Her passionate soul feared nothing but failure and humiliation. From her table Eleanor retrieved a necklace, from it hung a golden crucifix so detailed that on it was a small replica of Christ and two angels at his side. Carefully Eleanor laid the necklace flat across her bed; she knelt as one does in prayer at its side, crossing her self before praying to Saint Jude, her saint.  
"Saint Jude, il est par votre seule volonté que je place mon esprit dans le mouvement. Les pensées acquièrent la vitesse, lèvres acquièrent des taches, taches deviennent un avertissement. Il est près je seul placera mon esprit dans le mouvement."  
With her saint's blessing Eleanor rose from her place. In one fluid movement she cast the newly bought black cloak around her shoulders, leaving the hood hanging down her back and fastened it around her neck by two thin drawstrings. The sands of the hour glass now rapidly slipping away; Eleanor donned the final piece of her costume, the mask. Transformation complete Eleanor extinguished the candles lighting her room then vanished into the new dangers of Nottingham Castle.

Once again Robin found himself in a tavern unable to sip a single drop of ale. He and the gang were awaiting sunset and the hour of their onset. The agitation of lingering was slowly spreading amongst the gang; Much fiddled with his hands while Allan persisted in tapping the hilt of his sword against his belt buckle.  
"Not being funny or anything but how do we know she's going to help?"  
"She'll help" Robin replied bluntly. Behind, Allan began to argue and speculate but Robin's attention was focused elsewhere. Robin kept his eye on the doors, the tavern was a favourite for off-duty castle guards; the next guards to come in would be newly relieved from duty at the castle's west gate. This gave the outlaws a brief ten minutes before the new guards arrived to get inside the walls without raising any alarms or bloodshed.  
The dim sunlight that peaked in through the tavern's small windows slowly turning the sky into a canvas of gold dust as the sun sank beneath the horizon. The final hour was upon them. As time crept away, Robin became more and more anxious as the guards failed to appear. He wandered aimlessly from the door to a table, to outlaws again, still watching for the guards. A hand gripped Robin's shoulder, behind him stood Little John, calm as ever.  
"Robin." He began while carefully leading Robin to the group and sat him beside Much.  
"They'll come" When John was finally satisfied that he had settled the restless Robin, Robin abruptly jumped back to his feet. John let a frustrated sigh only to be met with Robin's impish smirk. A few feet from the tavern door stood the gate guards the outlaws had been waiting for. Wasting no more time the gang followed Robin's lead and gathered their weapons, hidden beneath their cloaks. Quickly they made their ways through the back alleys of Nottingham towards the west gate. Just as planned they found it unguarded, allowing the outlaws to slip by unnoticed. In the shadows they snuck through the courtyard careful not to make a sound that would raise the alarm as Little John, Alan and Much made their way to the open church window not too far from the west gate while Robin was to make his way to Ele's room which meant a dangerous climb up an ivy ladder and a deadly drop should he loose his grip.

Without a sound Eleanor sailed through the hallways of Nottingham castle, she went unnoticed as she approached Sir Guy's door. After a quick glance up and down the corridor; Eleanor gently pushed the door open expecting to find an empty room but to her surprise a snoozing Sir Guy lay napping. Eleanor looked to the table where she had stolen the purse from; there rested a hoop of keys, all which opened doors and locks in the castle. She went to pick them up and leave; however, a slight murmur from Guy stopped Eleanor in her tracks. To her relief, the murmur was nothing but a disturbance in his dream, if of course it's possible for a soulless man to dream. Eleanor set the keys back on the table, still within arms reach should she need to make a quick escape, and quietly sat besides the sleeping Guy.  
Silently she watched as Guy tossed and turned in his sleep; this made Eleanor glad, this man who killed her sister would suffer in both his sleeping and waking hours. However, even though she wanted Guy to pay for what he had done to her family, a nightmare can easily wake a sleeping man. Tenderly she brushed the hair from his face and stroked his cheek with the back of her hand. With her tender touch Guy settled into a deep dream filled slumber. In his sleep Sir Guy smiled, a look of delight almost. Eleanor for an evanescent moment relinquished the ice maiden shell she wore, submitting to her old thoughts and what she once dreamt.  
"Nobody knows, but you've got a secret smile and you use it only for me" She whispered still gazing at her sleeping man. Against all her better judgement, Eleanor leant forward and placed a delicate kiss on his forehead.  
"Marian?" Guy muttered in his sleep. Feeling wounded, Eleanor slowly stood from Sir Guy's bed, barely moving the mattress and took the keys from the table, placing another card 'Justice' where they had been before leaving Guy, undisturbed in his rest. For some time after leaving his words still disturbed her but Eleanor couldn't allow her own feelings to interfere with her true intentions; there wasn't much time and she still had much to do.

When Ele returned to her room she knew that it wouldn't be long before Robin and his men arrived. Once the door was locked Ele immediately changed out of her leathers; wanting to hide her them as quickly as possible she only threw on a thin, white linen undergarment before locking the leathers away in a wooden box. Ele had barely stowed her costume in its hiding place when Robin climbed in through her window. His sudden appearance startled Ele.  
"What is it with men and bursting in on me when I'm changing?!" She said with a somewhat frustrated sigh. She retrieved her dressing gown from the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders.  
"First Guy, now you..." She continued, her comments going no place in particular but when she mentioned Sir Guy, Ele noticed the slightest twinge in Robin's expression.  
"What? Jealous?" She laughed a little picking up the keys from her bedside table.  
"Don't worry I think you've seen much more of me then he has" She slipped in snidely before Robin had the chance to defend himself. As Ele continued to tease him Robin watched her attentively; he wouldn't deny it she was very attractive and if he was worse a man, such as Sir Guy, or for his devotion to Marian, Robin could have resigned himself to some rather immoral thoughts.  
"Here" She handed him the keys  
"I've arranged for a servant to meet you in the kitchens, he'll hide you and your men in a wagon and take you to Knighton. After that you're on your own. Don't worry he's trustworthy. He was my father's man, Marcus, you've probably met him." Ele quickly mentioned as she pulled a linen nightdress over her head. Robin lent against bed post to support him, he was loathed to as but never the less had to.  
"Why do you help?" his voice only just audible. Ele abruptly stopped and looked at him.  
"For every man there is a purpose which he sets up in his life. Let yours be the doing of all good deeds." She cast her eyes to the ground hoping he wouldn't press the answer any further and assume her motive was purely revenging Marian. Although Ele was source of scandal, her exploits with Guy was one secret she wished to keep.  
"Where did you hear that?"  
"A book" Ele replied, considering that Robin had been at war fighting the Turks for five years Ele didn't want to insult or aggravating him by admitting she had read the Qur'an.  
"You should go; your men will be waiting" Ele uttered sombrely, ushering Robin out the door.  
"Thank you" He praised looking into Ele's sad eyes. Without another word Robin slipped out of the room to meet with his men who would already be waiting in the passage way that led onto the strongroom. Ele closed the door behind him; she pressed her back against the hard wood and sunk to the floor. She pulled her knees under her chin whilst inside she was screaming. She spent so much time parading around in the mask, or a mature woman, that she forgot and neglected her confused, hurt eighteen year old self.

_Why do you help? Do you do it to avenge Marian or to avenge yourself? Or maybe to save England? No… You want him to notice you; to look past the child he knew and the sister he loved. Did you really think that after all this time that he would have changed? Then again would you have him any other way? Oh you silly, silly girl._

Ele's eyes began to burn so she wrapped her arms around her shoulder, hugging herself but this didn't satisfy her darker side that longed for a blade to sweep across her skin; little cuts that released the hate and the pain. It had been such a long time since she had felt the need to harm herself and she had vowed never to do it again. With her right hand she rolled up her left sleeve, on her arm she wore old, faint scars that you only really saw if you were looking for them or had seen them before. She was rather surprised Robin hadn't noticed them when he walked in on her bath, the man who missed no detail, so for once she was thankful for poor light. Ele rose from her seat at the door and walked over to the crude castle mirror. She glared into her reflection ashamed at what she had become. The scars said it all and even though she vowed never to mark herself again, the mere temptation was weakness. Ele resisted her want to punch her reflection; instead she turned and faced her bed. True for her nature, so early in the night was a very early bedtime for her but she had little else to do and being awake would only prolong those thoughts that tormented her, however, sleep did not come so easy. As much as she wished to drift away into a dream world where nothing matter, her subconscious continued to think and barged those thoughts into her conscience. She tossed and turned as she failed to forget, then she saw the moonlight glide in from the window. 'Angel rays' it was a story Marian had told Ele long ago in their lost childhood. Straight beams of light from the moon or sun that appeared first when the clouds passed were angel rays, a way of angelic departed being there to comfort the ones they left behind. Ele got out of bed and stood in the cold light; she stood by the window and looked up at the moon. All her family was up there; her mother, her father and sister, Ele was all that was left of the Knighton family and once she married and took her husband's name the Knighton name would die forever. Again Ele asked herself 'Why do you help?' only this time the question came in Marian's voice. A single tear rolled down Ele's cheek, filled with sadness and happy memories.  
"For you sister, for you" She said with a smile to the night air.

Robin made his way through Nottingham's maze of corridors that he knew all too well. As usual the castle was quiet; with the sheriff asleep and Guy curled up by his feet like a good little lapdog, guards often abandoned their post in favour of spending their duty asleep or drinking in the tavern; and the sheriff wondered why he was constantly being thwarted by Robin and his men.  
Little John, Alan and Much were waiting for Robin where they had agreed, this was one of the few positive things about Alan's wavering loyalties; he knew the castle, having spent time living there, better then any of the outlaws and he knew the guard routines and anything new the sheriff had emplaced.  
"Took your time!" Alan exclaimed. Ignoring Alan, Robin presented the keys to the outlaws who each wore a sign of relief knowing that they no longer had to endanger themselves waiting to pick the lock. Alan pointed out which key would open the strongroom door and swiftly the outlaws got in formation ready to take on the guards.  
As Robin surveyed the way ahead he was alarmed to find not a single guard where it should be crawling. It was quiet, too quiet considering there was a Black Knight document under lock and key. Every nerve in Robin tightened with caution as he sensed a trap. When they turned the last corner to the strongroom, Robin was surprised to see the strongroom guards on the cold stone floor unconscious. A quick glance over the scene revealed there had been no struggle but more importantly in the strongroom door was open and inside, resting on the treaty, was a card.  
Robin's men were too preoccupied with searching for traps and binding the dispatched guards to notice the card; it was tarot of the Chariot. With little else that seem significant, Robin quickly pocketed the card before warily removing the treaty from its place. No trap was sprung, the outlaws were safe for now. Robin quickly went over the treaty and came to very big problem. Although he recognised many signatures and the signature alone would prove the Black Knights' treason, the treaty itself was in French. Yes Robin could read and write but considering England's poor relations with France, his father overlooked having Robin tutored in French. His first thought was to run to Ele and have her translate it, however, he couldn't risk staying in the castle any longer then he needed to or endanger Ele having only just gained her allegiance.

"You there!" A shout came suddenly. They had been spotted. It was only one guard but soon others were flocking to the outlaws' position. They were trapped, each passage leading away from the strongroom were packed with guards and soldiers. The outlaws drew their weapons prepared to fight their way out of the castle... again.  
"Locksley!" Sir Guy made his way through his men. Robin heard the slur of sleep in Guy's voice. Guy signalled with his hand and sent the first wave of soldiers the outlaws' way. They were quickly dispatched, like most men under the sheriff's pay, they were no match for the outlaws' agility and improvised battle moves the outlaws had perfected during their time fighting for England. The outlaws had barely caught their breath when another wave of guards were sent flying at them. Again they defeated them and again another wave was sent. The quick succession of onslaught exhausted the outlaws, Robin knew the gang's only chance to survive to fight another day, was to reach the kitchen and find Marcus. Robin eyed Little John mouthing his command to him amongst the fray. Little John was to lead Much and Alan to the kitchen and get out of the castle. In a swift turn Robin slipped the treaty into John's hand and then with an encouraging nod, John braced himself behind his staff and ran towards a wall of guards. Like a human battering ram John pushed the guards aside making way for the outlaws' escape. The rest of the soldiers ran after the outlaws leaving Robin to face Sir Guy alone. Guy, recognising the challenge, dropped his leather cloak to the floor and unsheathed his sword. For a second Robin froze at the sight of the sword; the black hilt, the plain steel blade – the blade that killed Marian. It amazed and sickened Robin that Guy had gone back for the sword, it provoked all memories of watching Marian die in his arms. A cruel smirk crossed Guy's face when he saw the hurt in Robin's eyes.  
"What's the matter Hood? No Night-watchman to save you?" He said uncaring, his teeth peeking through his smile. Robin lunged towards Guy.  
"Now where would be the fun in that?" He shouted above the clash of their swords. Guy counter-attacked almost cutting Robin's arm if Robin wasn't so quick on his feet. Robin jumped back and the two circles the room, they glared at one other before rushing to the centre where their swords met again. Robin swiped his sword barely missing Guy with the point but instead smacked him in the side of the head with the hilt. The miss gave Guy an opportunity to grab Robin's tunic. He pulled Robin too him sending the pair crashing into a hard stone wall. Guy hit the wall with his back while cushioning Robin's fall. In the time it took for Guy to get back to his feet Robin was already halfway across the chamber.  
"What's the matter Gisborne? Can't keep up?" Robin mocked. Aggravated, Guy jumped to his feet and ran at Robin, his sword ready to drive through Robin's stomach. Seeing the ill-made move Robin swung out of harm's way. Rather than landing in Robin's soft flesh, Guy's sword was driven into a wooden door where it refused to move from. When Robin saw the helpless Guy, he felt his darker side begin to take hold. He remembered Marian; how Guy had heartlessly killed Marian all because she refused to love him. Robin held his sword to Guy's throat.  
"One reason"  
"Go ahead Hood. You'd be betraying your ideals but killing the man who murdered Marian."  
Robin paused, still holding the sword to Guy's throat, throughout his time as an outlaw Robin had always sworn never to draw blood where it wasn't needed; to never draw his sword out of revenge. Behind, noise came from within as guards rushed to aid Sir Guy.  
"No... I'd rather see you exposed as a traitor and humiliated. Killing you would be a mercy. You loved her too; you killed her, live with that like I have." Robin withdrew himself from the scene, disappearing into Nottingham's murky shadows. To Robin's relief, Guy did not pursue him neither did the soldiers. Around him Robin could hear the commotion of the castle on full alert, when he darted into the kitchen he did so just in time as a train of soldiers passed by seconds after. Robin pressed his back against the wall remaining silent as the guards went past. When the coast was clear Robin poked his head out of the door and looked up and down the corridor.  
"Ah!" Robin yelped as a cold hand pressed his shoulder. His heart had only just begun to slow down when it was shocked back into hyper drive. The would be assailant was nothing more than a feeble old man whom Robin recognised to be Marcus, Sir Edward's faithful manservant. Robin laughed nervously at the relief and was led by Marcus to the wagon where John, Much and Alan were already waiting.  
Amidst the confusion created by the outlaws in the strongroom, the wagon was able to pass out of Nottingham without a single raised eyebrow as to why a wagon was leaving the castle so late at night.

Back inside the castle Sir Guy was facing the sheriff's wrath, having lost Robin again. The sheriff was waiting in the great hall as usual, with his feet resting on the grand table that spread the length of the hall.  
"Are you deaf Guy?" He said from his place, calm as ever slowly setting his feet on the ground.  
"Was I not clear when I said I wanted Hoods pretty little face, on his pretty little head, on his pretty little body, on a pretty BIG spike outside my castle?" The sheriff stood and slowly walked towards Guy, his steps echoing evil, it made Guy nervous.  
"And what did I say earlier concerning your new friend?" Guy knew the sheriff was only saying such things to provoke a reaction and he got one, the sheriff saw the grimace Guy flashed.  
"You did kill her sister after all, why wouldn't she want to betray you?" The sheriff muttered as he circled Guy.  
"My lord, I will send riders out to retrieve the treaty."  
"Oh no need" The sheriff butted in. "You really think I would put something so important where any little cretin could find it. Hood will be back soon enough". With that the sheriff began to walk to the door.  
"What about Eleanor, she had no part in this" Guy called after him.  
"Really? And you know this?" The sheriff laughed.  
"We'll just have to keep a much closer eye on her" The sheriff turned back to Guy and grinned menacingly. He walked backwards out of the room, fading into the darkness with his grin disappearing last, his jewelled tooth adding the final notion of sinister. For some time Guy watched the spot where the sheriff had been and thought of all the betrayal that had befallen him. Marian had lied and manipulated him more than once, what's to say Ele wouldn't do the same? Unaware, Guy began to pace the room, back and forth he went.  
_I'd rather die than be with you! _Those were but a few of Marian's final words to him and still they hurt like a knife in his side. Now in a rage Guy smashed a vase sending it flying across the floor in every direction. He burst through the hall doors and stormed his way back to his room. Once inside he slammed the door shut behind, and then he saw the card.

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Saint Jude (aka Judas) patron saint of desperate cases  
"Saint Jude, it is by your will alone I set my mind in motion. Thoughts acquire speed, lips acquire stains, stains become a warning. It is by will alone I set my mind in motion."

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**OoOoo! That is the longest chapter I've written, hopefully it will satisfy you for another 4 weeks or so. I still haven't made my decision over who the M chapter(s) will contain, however have had a few people request Guy...can't imagine why ;p. For those getting impatient for M chapter(s) it'll probably be in the next or the chapter after that.**

**Having said that it may be quite a while before I upload again, on Tuesday I'm going on holiday for a month with no internet access, I will continue writing while I'm away there just wont be any updates. So till next time!**


	6. Chapter 6

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Hi all! Finally back after 4 long weeks away, driving through Spain/France for 2 days and sharing a hotel room with both parents who snore was most definitely not the highlight…

**Ah but I digress, on with the story. The next update may take longer then a week to update, not only have I got all my work to finish before I return to college in September and of course with the new series of The Tudors starting I may find it a... distraction. Also re-read last chapter, I can't believe how many mistakes I made! I promise never again to write after midnight, my brain obviously melts at that time.  
****On another note OMFG!! NOOOO!! I don't want Jonas to leave after series 3!! And what are these rumours I'm hearing of Guy having a sister in series 3?!**

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Eleanor sat in front of the table in her room at Nottingham Castle, staring at her distorted reflection in the crudely made mirror. In spite of the attack on the strongroom two days before, the sheriff was persistent in hosting a banquet for the Black Knights.  
Ele studied her face in the mirror; her curls had been tamed, tied in an elaborate bun and decorated with beads, to all tense and purposes she looked like the perfect Lady but she knew her true reflection lay hidden in a wooden box beneath her bed.  
She didn't recognise the lady's reflection staring back at the broken girl and she batted the mirror away unable to bear looking at the impostor any longer. She stood from her chair, knowing the banquet would not start for another hour or so, and with a flutter of excitement knelt down beside her bed.  
Ele pulled out her secret trove and unlatched the lid; inside her Venetian mask rested proudly atop her marauder leathers. She held the mask to the light and wiped away the single drop of blood that blemished the perfect cream. Ele relented to a quiet giggle; it was most probably from her little skirmish with the strongroom guards and she didn't even think she had hit them _that_ hard!  
Suddenly there was a knock at her chamber door. Panicking, Ele stuffed the mask back inside the box and slammed the lid shut before getting to her feet.  
"Yes?!" Her voice was shaky and sounded ashamedly guilty as she kicked her secret back beneath the bed. The door creaked open and Sir Guy tiptoed in after it.  
Ele smiled, welcoming him in. "Sir Guy? And to what do I owe the pleasure?" She asked playfully as she waltzed back to the table and began to rummage through her small jewellery box.  
"Ele would you... would you do me the honour of sitting at my side at the banquet tonight?" He stuttered slightly, strange for a man who so often portrayed himself as the unmovable, untouchable knight. Had Ele's latest surprise gift, the Justice tarot card, shook the unshakable?  
"And…" He continued, removing his hand from behind his back to reveal a necklace. Ele was stunned for an instant, it was a beautiful thing; the necklace itself was a chain of Celtic circle styled links and made of silver, if not silver plated. Teasingly, Ele raised an eyebrow and looked inquisitively at Guy.  
"People will start to talk"  
"Call it making up for all the birthdays I missed." He said with a chuckle leaving his signature smirk lingering on his face.  
"And the letters you 'forgot' to reply to"  
His smirk widened to a smile and he walked to her. Standing behind her, Guy carefully looped the necklace around Ele's neck and fastened the clasp, letting his gift rest on the base of her neck. The silver went perfectly with her sky-blue dress; Ele raised her neck and caressed it in admiration, speechless for thanks.  
"And…" He murmured before Ele could utter her thanks. The single word swept across her ear in a single hot breath, sending a tingle of anticipation shooting down Ele's spine.  
"For the promises I never kept"  
Ele was again speechless and could only stutter her appreciation while trying to avoid looking in the mirror and see Sir Guy's eyes wandering down her back longingly. Before another word could be said between the pair, a muffled shout came from somewhere out in the castle, the master calling for his dog. Guy threw his head back over his shoulders with irritation; the sheriff had wonderful timing when it came to interrupting intimate moments.  
"I had best go" He sighed lightly, Guy brushed his hand over Ele's bare shoulder sending yet more shivers of excitement through her. He flashed _that_ smirk again as he closed the door behind him, leaving Ele feeling giddy in the wake of his presence and blushing ever so slightly.

"So tell me, how were you planning on reciprocating?" Robin had been hiding behind the door the whole time, how he had got there eluded her but his sudden manifestation no longer shocked her, on account that during each of their previous encounters Robin had somehow appeared out of thin air.  
"Maybe you'd find out if you gave me a gift. As it is you only come out of the woodwork to ask for favours, like now for example." Ele batted her eyelashes smugly.  
"Why does that sound like something Marian would say?" He strolled towards her table, treaty in hand. As he neared her, a cold fear clamped his heart. He recognised that necklace all too well; Guy had given to Marian after having stolen it from a peasant girl in Locksley. He gave that back to the girl, he remembered clear as day. Another sick reminder Guy had drawn from the past.  
"Something to do with being sisters perhaps?" Ele's voice drew Robin back to the present; he bit back exposing Guy's gift as stolen, currently Robin needed Ele's attention elsewhere. He tossed the treaty in front of her.  
"What's this?" She asked already unrolling the document.  
"Oh don't tell me the Earl of Huntington can't read!" She laughed.  
"Can't read French." Robin quickly defended himself. Ele smiled coyly having teased him sufficiently. She turned her attention back to the paper before her; quickly she scanned through the words and smiled, holding back raw laughter.  
"I, Sheriff of Nottingham, declare this document to be a fraud! The true Treaty of the Black Order is already on route to London where it shall receive the final signature..."  
Eleanor's eyes widened abruptly and her expression dropped.  
"However, there are only two people in Nottingham who can read fluent French, one being in my pay. If any attack is made on the travelling treaty, the outlaw's accomplice will be ousted. Save England or save the girl?" Robin stared at Ele who sat motionless. The Sheriff had anticipated that Robin would steal the treaty and now like a spider had spun a web ensnaring them both. Ele had only been in Nottingham just over a fortnight and already she was in danger of being imprisoned in the castle dungeons, or a quick drop and a sudden stop. Ele had no wish to forfeit the comfort of Knighton and the castle's guest quarters, no matter how temporary it may be. However, her duty to her parted sister and Ele's own darker motive left her with very few choices.  
"You had better go, I'm expected downstairs." She mumbled, breaking the silence although the dreadful tension remained. Ele silently stood from her place and smoothed down her dress, and then with a deep breath to compose herself, she left as quietly as Robin had came. Robin watched her drift out the chamber door and listened as her footsteps echoed down the corridor before they disappeared into silence.  
Robin remained, his mind torn with indecision. His duty was to save England but not even the strongest devotion in him could willingly send an innocent person to Nottingham dungeons, or worse to the gallows. Especially as this innocent happened to be Marian's sister and the only living member of the Knighton family, except her widow aunt in France but she had given up her family name, and most family ties, when she married a Frenchman.

Robin poked his head out of the door to see two guards walk past the entrance to the corridor. Castle security had been tightened as a result of the Black Knight gathering and the previous attacks, as usual getting out of the castle would be a lot harder than getting in.  
It's worth mentioning that Robin, having spent the last three years hiding in trees, was not afraid of heights. However, like most of us mortals, once the height becomes a fatal plummet, if you should loose your grip, or in this case the ivy snaps, and your remains have to be scrapped off the floor; Robin did feel a slight twinge of dread as he approached Ele's window to descend. Cautiously Robin lowered his feet out of the window, hooking them in the vines and held fast to the window ledge. There was a straining sound as Robin shifted his body weight entirely on the crawling ivy but nothing of any consequence and slowly he descended the wall. Once back safe on terra firma, Robin looked up the wall and admired his conquest, taking in its ironic beauty of strong, flourishing ivy tentacles sprawled over the decaying brick and mortar. Much like England itself, rotting at the foundations and held together by a strong few, such as the outlaws.  
However, he could not stay long, like the steady beat of a drum marching guards could be heard. Robin ducked behind a wall out of sight from the guards and let them pass without incident. Once the threat of danger had subsided, Robin snapped back to the path, his footsteps, light, making not a sound on the cobblestone floor. With an outlaw's dexterity and cunning, Robin slunk past the castle security till he was facing the hole in the castle wall he had come in through. He was about to break for freedom when behind he heard an echo of the Sheriff talking with Sir Guy on their way to the Black Knight banquet. Robin's inquisitive instinct sparked and he swiftly turned to follow the noise, skulking through corridors till he came to the Great Hall.  
The Sheriff stood with Guy at his side looking on as one by one the black knights arrived. Robin watched, intrigued, seeing many of the black knights without their black hoods for the first time. Some of the Sheriff's devotees, such as the Earl of Sussex, didn't shock Robin but there were a few, the baron of Mountfitchet, a land owner from Essex, to name but one, who it seemed almost impossible that they should support such a cause. Once all knights were present the Sheriff and Guy followed in, and then amongst the dark reds and deep blues, Ele appeared.  
She paused just before the entrance, closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Standing back from her society face, Robin saw the loneliness and loss in Ele's eyes. At that very moment Robin wanted nothing more then to rush in and rescue her from the world she so obviously didn't belong to but tried so desperately to be apart of. Robin was taken aback by his urge to shield her and the twinge of anger he felt of her being in the arms of another, thanks to an inherited possessive streak that was burning up his veins; unbidden and unwanted. Robin abruptly broke from his place, practically running to his escape route.He felt ashamed with himself that he should think of another woman when Marian had barely been in her grave a year. His guilt persisted in hounding him where the guards failed to; it followed gnawing at the back of his mind as he departed Nottingham for his forest haven.

"Master you're back!" Much exclaimed almost jumping out of his seat as he spotted Robin returning to camp. Unlike his faithful manservant, Robin was not so exhilarated to see his friend. Instead he walked straight past Much and dropped the fake treaty into the blazing fire. Much made a panicked dive to retrieve the burning paper, pulling it from the flames and desperately trying to stamp it out before it was burnt to ashes.  
"Don't bother" Robin said in a frustrated sigh, his mind wandering back to Ele, the more he tried to disregard those thoughts, the more they returned to her; begging him, tempting him.  
"It was a set up. The real 'Treaty of the Black Order' is already on its way to London." His voice trailed off in the face of failure and defeat.  
"Why aren't we going after it then?" Alan questioned, his voice in its usual know-it-all tone. Ignoring his compulsion to beat Alan over the head with something heavy, Robin explained to his men the Sheriff's scheme should the treaty come under any harm.  
"So what's stopping us? Take the treaty; rescue the girl, everybody's happy."  
Both Robin and John looked at Alan with contempt. Rescuing Ele from Nottingham dungeons was an obvious plan; the Sheriff would be expecting them to burst in and save her. It took very little to remind Alan of the risk of underestimating the Sheriff. The last time they had do so, the men who they intended on saving had been hung an hour early, one being Alan's brother.  
Robin paced a little then flung himself into a chair. He needed time to think but time, as usual, was the one thing he had little of. If they didn't begin to track the treaty within another day, it would be too far ahead for them to catch. However, should they attack the convoy Ele would be in danger. Robin rethought the scenario over and over again yet each time he came to the same grave conclusion; there was no way to take the treaty and save Ele.  
The night dragged on; one by one all but Robin trickled away to sleep while he continued to suffer. He was tired, bone weary. A ripe curse stumbled from his lips; his agitation grew with each wasted idea. Inside he wanted to scream and shout to kick something hurtling across the floor, and if he wasn't as restrained as he was Robin probably would have. As an alternative to destroying the camp, Robin frantically scratched the back of his tag, as he did a sweet memory of Marian flooded him.

"_Did you hear that?" He murmured, inches from Marian's ear.  
_"_What?" Her voice a girlish purr.  
_"_That kiss spoke volumes"  
_"_Did it? What did it say?" She gave a little girl pout and drew closer to him.  
_"_It said 'Marian wants to come and join your gang."_

Meanwhile back at Nottingham Castle, Eleanor was numb with the whole process of meeting and greeting, of smiling politely at everyone from crusty old Lords to cruel faced Earls. During the meal she had to refrain from digging her knife into the back of her hand or from embedding it in the groin of the Earl of Sussex, who had spent he entire night freely glaring at Ele's breasts and making vulgar, tasteless joke about her being a maid.  
'_Oh how little you know' _she thought to herself, turning to watch Guy squirm at yet another of Sussex's dreadful puns.  
Throughout the feast Ele had caught the Sheriff staring at her before muttering something to whoever sat next to him whenever Ele caught his eye. When the banquet was over and Ele went to leave, as is proper etiquette for ladies to leave the men to drink themselves into a stupor, the feeling of being observed returned. Or rather, increased. She felt a stare reach out to her from across the darkened distance. She dared not turn to look for fear of coming against the Sheriff's jewelled grin and whatever foul purpose his sick mind had thought up. Ele retained her composure and swiftly made for the door until a gloved hand suddenly appeared out of thin air, grabbing her wrist. To her relief it was the same gloved hand which had brushed over her bare shoulder earlier that evening.  
"Guy" She squeaked, her voice an octave just north of fear. Her heart settled in her chest as he spoke.  
"Where are you going?" He asked, softly taking her hand in his. Guy knew it was an odd question as the answer was obvious to anyone having attended such an affair but he could think of little else that would postpone her departure. Ele went to reply, however, she could not summon the necessary words, and instead she found herself gazing into a pair of doleful eyes and a spirit that seemed nearly as lost as her own. A noise came from the crowded Lords behind, beckoning Guy back to his world of darkness.  
"They're waiting for you" She murmured, loosening her hand from his grasp. Discretely she leant in and whispered in his ear:  
"Find me later"  
Nothing more, nor word or glance, was exchanged between the pair. Ele silently left Guy not turning to meet his eyes following her figure.  
"Gisborne!!"

Once out of sight Ele ducked into an alcove the light failed to touch, waiting for the echo of Guy's boots as he rejoined the Black Knights. The door had been left open to allow in the gentle summer breeze that cooled the castle. Ele inched closer leaving the safety of darkness, trying to differentiate from the numerous voices and the Sheriff. Although well into their revelry, Vasey was soon demanding their attention.  
"Gentlemen, this time tomorrow our treaty will be in London and Hood's head will be on a spike." There was a brief hush.  
"To the new world, _our _new world" A cheer followed and the Black Knights toasted to their approaching success. As they returned to their drinking and leisurely conversation footsteps advanced on Ele's position; she scuttled back to the alcove concealing herself in the shadows. The Sheriff and Sir Guy walked past, Ele's heart racing in her throat when Guy paused directly in front of her. However, she had chosen her hiding place well and the duo continued on.  
"Are all the preparations in order?"  
"The treaty will be ready to leave first light tomorrow"  
"Good" The Sheriff stopped abruptly. "And Gisborne, if anything should go wrong, anything at all..." His threat trailed off, Gisborne having heard it all before.  
"Just think." The Sheriff began, now with a renewed vigour.  
"This goes according to plan; you could be more than a pathetic master-at-arms with no land of his own"  
Guy bit his lip; it was part of the humiliation that came with the Gisborne name. His grandfather had gambled much of the ancestral land away and Guy's own father had lost what little land remained when he was tried for treason, leaving descendants with nothing but a pretty title.  
"I have Locksley" Guy replied acidly.  
"As steward… Of course you could have had Knighton, but a pretty girl waltzed in and you rolled over like a dog, letting her take what was rightfully yours." The Sheriff's mouth widened into a sly grin, Vasey gave a cruel snigger then went back to his Lords, Guy hesitantly trailing after him. With no apparent danger Ele sprung from her hiding place to make a hasty dash to her room.  
She had an hour, two at most, before Guy would visit her chamber, if he came at all. No time to warn Robin of the trap, and even if she did have the time the marked horseshoes would lead the Sheriff's men straight to her, not to mention he slight problem that she had no clue as to where Robin would be. Ele let her gaze drift to the night outside her bedroom window, watching in queer detachment as stars and clouds flickered by. Ele had no option but to go after the treaty on her own, irregardless of the danger. She would leave for Knighton as soon as possible the next day, at least then she had a reason not to be in the castle and it was a legitimate excuse; she had been away from the house for a number of days, God knows what state the mixed-staff were now in. However, there was the more immediate issue of Sir Guy. Ele despised the slightest notion of being a whore but she knew that the way to the heart and trust of a man such as Gisborne, lay south of his stomach. Besides if she spent the night with him she would have an alibi in the morning… that's what she told herself anyway. There was no denying the light feeling in the pit of her stomach or the thoughts that plagued her mind throughout the feast; she could not name the emotion that passed through in that moment when he grabbed her wrist but it sped her pulse and made the room feel sapped of air.  
Whilst he stared at her in their moment of silence, Ele felt a pleasant knot of warmth pool in her belly. In his gaze heat seemed to reach out from his eyes penetrating deep, physical and intimate, along with a stoic understanding. Upon recalling the instant a picture formed in Ele's mind: she and him, naked and writhing together in the moonlit dark of the castle's guest rooms. A blast of heat flooded her. She could feel his firm muscles beneath her fingertips, his unyielding body moving over her… his thick shaft filling her, stretching her, exploding deep within her. Imaging hose long, deft finger touching her bare skin, splaying through her hair, cupping the back of her skull… guiding her head back until it rested on his strong arm and his cool grey eyes drowning her.  
Ele swallowed on a dry throat, shaking her head side to side in an attempt to divert her from her fantasy. She dismissed the peculiar race of her pulse; tonight would be _the fantasy, _blending all those sordid day dreams she had willingly succumb to in France.

A fantasy and nothing more.

The Black Knights' drinking session lasted long into the night. Around him, Earls staggered past, patting one another heartily on the back before promptly falling out of the hall. Guy would have joined them, if not for his mind being preoccupied. His thoughts kept returning to the woman with mink curls and enchanting, alabaster beauty. Guy just couldn't shake himself loose of her sweet scent, her soft skin or her apparent sultry sensuality. He hated that she brought out such a weakness in him. His need for her was unbearable, and at once he knew that he would have her and if she refused he would take her uncontrollably. Yet the soft purr of invitation suggested too much and even now roused something within. When it seemed the perfect moment Guy slipped out of the hall unbeknownst to the Sheriff.

Once again Guy found himself outside Ele's chamber door only this time he could hear the thundering pulse of his own heart.

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**OoOo what type of chapter could come next? You'll only get it of you're nice to me and review! Mwahahaha! I didn't mean to be so... well mean to Alan in this chapter (and in the story, come to think of it) and yes I do realise that the further we go into this story the longer the chapters become. As you can guess I've decided who the M chapters are going to involve, however, I now have another dilemma. Does Ele go evil and join the Sheriff or live up to her sister and become and outlaw?**


	7. Chapter 7 M

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Once again Guy found himself outside Ele's chamber door, only this time he could hear the thundering pulse of his own heart.

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Guy rapped his knuckles across the wooden door. No reply came so Guy tentatively called out Ele's name. His baritone voice came through the door and permeated into Ele's bones like a sound she had heard a thousand times before, soothing her even as it kick started her pulse into an erratic flutter of anticipation.  
With a slight push the door eased open, welcoming him into the dark room. A pale streak of moonlight ran across the bed revealing Ele's scantily clad figure. The glow played softly over her refined curves that were visible underneath the light Egyptian linen nightdress, her legs wrapped in the twisted sheets, her hair spread over her shoulders in luxurious waves of mahogany. Her lips were parted allowing small whit teeth to glint in the scant light. Her neck was graceful, proud, a regal column of alabaster above the fragile bones of her shoulders.  
A purr of sound hummed from her throat, raspy and erotic.  
"My Lord" She lifted from the bed and bought herself before him.  
"I have such..." She raised Guy's hands, pressing their hands palm to palm, entwining their fingers and pulling them closer.  
"Visions" The word another purr lightly rolling his neck and exploding in his mind.  
"Visions?" He repeated dazedly and dumbstruck, hearing that last word echo, warm and provocative, stripping of all resistance.  
His piercing gaze travelled a slow downward path from her mussed hair, to the thin cloth stretched across her chest, to the bare toes peeking out from under the dress. As his attention came back to her face, a rush of warmth surged along her limbs. His face lingered in her head, burned there evermore in an instant. For the way he looked upon her as though he wanted to devour her where she stood. It felt as if every of his senses were trained on her alone taking pleasure in the sight, sound, scent, feel and soon taste of her. As if only she, Guy and this ardour that raged between them, that had existed from the moment she returned to Knighton.

Ele took two smooth steps backward, her hand lingering on Guy, leading him closer to desire. He followed with no objection, that penetrating look rooted deep within her, a short pace and he was over her, the heavily muscular henchman with a disarming gaze and sinister good looks. His size, his obvious strength, was overwhelming, like standing in the shadow of a mountain. Ele slipped his leather gloves off and bit her lip as he reached to her, his fingertips tenderly grazing her jaw. Heat spread out from the bare contact, flooding her neck trickling over her as he traced his hand along the sensitive skin below her ear and around to the nape of her neck. With his thumb he caressed the hollow of her cheek. Ele closed her eyes and listened to her heart racing in her ears. She didn't move, hardly breathed, as Guy's mouth drifted towards hers. He kissed her deeply, a faint bite of need locked within the warm press of his mouth, his lips lingering long enough for her to understand this night would prelude to something much more. He broke the kiss; his eyes alight with an animal wildness that sent a thrill of anticipation shooting down her spine.  
"Ele what are we doing?" His lips dragged across hers as he spoke his voice like rich velvet stroking her senses, making her dizzy with want for him. Ele purred, tossing a playful look over his shoulder and arching her brow.  
"What does it feel like?" Her eyes flickered suggestively, the words rolling past her lips in a smooth, measured timbre that eased his anxiety at once.

Guy leant his head forward to kiss but before he could claim her plush lips, Ele pressed a fingertip against his mouth halting his advance.  
"Sir Guy, I am a Lady of rank. You cannot have your way with me whenever you wish" She whispered provocatively in his ear knowing her words were hollow nothings if not invitations. Guy released her; she leant back against a bed post surveying his sleek black hair and chiselled, dark, dangerous good looks one last time before she would have them. Guy stood still, watching her every move as a lion does its prey. Only when she stopped did he follow.  
"And what if I can't help myself?" His low growl of humour, deep as the night and tempting as hell, stirred yet more heat at Eleanor's core. The tip of Guy's nose brushed against Ele's.  
"You never could resist" giving him full permission to her body and all the pleasures he may find in it. She guided his hand, drifting to the delicate bow that held her robe close around her. He pulled lightly, untying the knot and letting the front of her dress fall open while still hanging from her shoulders. Ele's hands snaked their way up Guy's torso, undoing the fastenings that concealed his well built form of masculine beauty from her. Gisborne saw the excitement in Ele's eyes and with a smirk he bent down to her again, brushing his lips over her cheeks, her chin, and her throat sweeping over her pulse which lurched into an erratic beat. She sighed; Guy caught her breath with a searing kiss, thrusting his tongue between her parted lips. Ele took him in, vaguely aware of his hands slipping behind her, pulling the dress from her shoulder and letting it fall to the floor, baring her to him completely. She was exquisite, as he knew she would be. Petite, yet strong, her body lithe with youth; supple and fair. Firm muscles shaped her limbs, flexing mindlessly as Guy trailed his fingers along her sternum and the concave dip of her stomach. Her skin was velvet and warm, too tempting for any man to resist.  
And her breasts, Guy couldn't resist the peachy dark nipples that crowned her bosom. He teased the little buds between his fingers, tugging gently and nearly growling with need as it puckered into a tight bead, hardening to his touch. He licked his lips, growing hungry, eager to have her.  
Guy stroked the arch of her lower back, his fingers tenderly tracing her spine. His caress travelled lazily downward over the curve of her hip. She didn't resist at all when he kissed her deeper and pulled her forward, till her pelvis mashed against the hard muscle of his thigh. Ele gasped as the breath left her lungs in a slow sigh. She sagged into him, revelling in the feel of his hands on her skin, wandering where they pleased.

"Ele" He growled against her heated skin, her moan of pleasure sending a jolt of unruly lust through his veins. He was already stiff and erect; his sex throbbed beneath the constricting barrier of clothes. He ground into her with a slow, meaningful thrust, his sex rigid at her abdomen. Ele could feel the solid length of him, could feel the size and strength of his shaft. A flood of moist heat surged between her legs at the thought of taking him inside her. Ele moaned, her body writhing against his with a force she had no power, nor want, to control.  
Guy's breath was hot against her neck, his hand urgently tugging between them. Lightly his fingers guided her to where his stiff erection protruded, free from its confines. Ele wrapped her hand around him and gave the strong, smooth shaft an admiring stroke. The weight of his sex in her hand was enthralling. She tightened her grip and pulled the hard flesh, sweeping her fingertips over the thick head.  
Guy's body jerked as she worked her hand along his length and girth. His hands shook slightly as he moved them from her hips and his palm sliding below her waist. She was wet for him, out of her mind for submitting and burning with a pent up desire, about to be lost in all its fury.  
Ele released him and pressed her back to the bed post firmly as Guy's fingers slipped easily through the narrow thatch of curls between her legs, then into her slick cleft, teasing her with playing hands against aching flesh. Want washed over her in a shivering wave, making Ele groan verging on crying out. In response, he eased one long finger inside her, then another; Ele moved against him in writhing, mindless sensuality around his questing but not quite filling caress.

He leaned down and claimed her lips in another hungry kiss; a dark growl of impatience, boiling out from somewhere deep inside him. Guy suddenly sunk to his knees and Ele was on fire, burning before she utter a breath.  
She was wet and slick against his lips, her cleft a heated shaft against his tongue. His hands braced, unrelenting, against Ele's inner thighs, spreading her wider for his own carnal desires. The feel of his tongue spearing her flesh, suckling her deep into his mouth as he would sweet wine, sent Ele's legs boneless beneath her as her body convulsed the coming release. Yet he continued to lap her, bringing her to the crest of climax. Ele came harder than she could have ever imagined, or remembered. Guy held her to him pressing her core, giving no quarter as her body quivered and bucked under the skill of his tongue. She closed her eyes and flung her head back over her shoulders, submitting and surrendering to him, then as suddenly as he had begun Guy got to his feet leaving Ele craving to feel his touch again. Guy's arms held her forcefully, curving beneath her back and under her knees. She looped her arms around his neck as he carried her to the side of the bed. The soft crush of cashmere cushioned her as Guy placed her down and braced himself above her, his magnificent height of solid muscle caging her beneath him, his powerful arms locking her in on either side.  
Ele arched into him; aching, needing to feel her inside her after all her years of dreaming. His erection was a heavy length of steely heat pressed between her thighs. Ele lifted her hips to welcome him. When she finally found her voice it came out in small, breathless rasp.  
"Take me" He did not deny her. The thick head of his sex pulsed, demanding at the entrance to her body. His massive shoulders were trembling beneath Ele's hands, as though he had been holding back and was now about to burst. She needed to have him inside her or she would die.  
"Yes" She urged, shifting beneath him so his shaft cleaved at the centre of her.  
"I won't break"

As if he needed reminding.

Ele looked up at him from under heavy eyelids, taken by the untamed fire in his gaze; the flame that had been quelled by years of service to the sheriff now burning again, blazing with lust and every sinful, selfish desire known to man.  
Guy breached her body with a deep, mind numbing thrust. Ele could not hold back her moan of pleasure as he filled her, impaling her at her very core. He dropped his head to her shoulder with a faint grunt as he drew back before plunging deeper. Ele clutched to his back, pulling him closer, lifting her hips to meet his hard thrusts. She laced her fingers through his hair pulling his gaze back to her face; grasping wordlessly and moaning like a whore as his tempo increased. He thrust and withdrew, pistoning between her legs. Ele felt the heated rush of another orgasm coil in her belly. His sex leaped within her, seeming to swell with each relentless flex of his hips. Ele held onto him as he pumped into her. It was all she could do as a raw scream tore from her throat. His own release followed shortly after, he cursed under his breath; a black, feral sound as she wrung him dry. He remained in her as they came down together, savouring every last second inside her.

Guy rolled off her taking his place lying beside her. He reached for her, smoothing his palm over the top of her head. She took his touch as an invitation and crawled into his arms, innocent as a kitten. He stroked the burnished softness of her hair and brushed his fingers over the slender line of her shoulder. Guy dragged her essence deep into his lungs; trace notes of lavender combined with the intoxicating scent of sex clinging to their bodies, teasing his senses and calling to the primitive within him. He'd never wanted a woman so badly, not even Marian. He wanted something more, the thought slowly dawning on him. How natural it felt to hold her, bemused by the impulse that he, and only he, had to protect her as his own.

_His own._

He looked down, silently considering the soft bundle of warm, beautiful woman wrapped around him in a delicious state of post sex dishevelment, naked and exquisite. She murmured in his chest, her voice a sleep heavy putt sending a jolt of warmth down his spine.

_His own._

* * *

**There, finally got one of your many M chapters! Yay!! It may have taken 6 chapters but I think the wait was worth it…wasn't it? Although have written the next chapter, may re-write it (sorry) however it depends on my editor's opinion. Reviews always welcome, even the negative ones, so I'll update in a week, 2 weeks, a month, when I'm ready. If anyone has any requests as to situations they'd like to read put it in a review or msg me. Till next time xxx**


	8. Chapter 8

**So, the morning after the night before…**

* * *

Sir Guy awoke many hours later, his arm still cradling the sleeping beauty that lay next to him. A gentle draught brushed over the pair and Ele nudged closer from the brief chill, wrapping her arms around him. Huddled in his arms Guy felt the steady rise and fall of Ele's chest as she breathed deep and slowly, trying to maintain her sleeping state and hold onto the last remnants of her dreams. An overwhelming feeling of adoration swept through Guy as he looked down at her, silently watching with tender admiration. AA love Guy had not known since Marian, had now returned to him, baring every passion a lover could hold and an affection that only a kindred spirit would recognize. When Guy killed Marian he believed he had lost love forever and was never to feel the pound of his heart in the familiar beat of infatuation ever again, let alone to be loved in return.  
Softly he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand and kissed her forehead, welcoming the sleepy smile she gave in response. Trying not to wake her further, Guy eased himself out of Ele's grasp; merely being in her presence was doing strange things to his mind. Or rather, his body.  
Outside a purplish hue clung to the horizon as the sun barely peaked above the earth. No doubt the Sheriff would want his master-at-arms present for the treaty's departure, leaving the new found lovers with no time for each other. Guy blinked slowly, his thick black lashes shuttering stormy grey eyes, his vision flushed over her skin like the cool breeze moments ago. His heart was still pounding; the room suddenly felt oddly warm. Ele looked so tempting, curled up in her bed, with fine linen sheets draped haphazardly over her body. How sweet she had tasted on his tongue and how right it had felt after when she curled into him.  
He leaned toward her, bending his head down until it was hovering just above her. Ele heard the soft rasp of his breath caress her skin as he drew her into his lungs and released through his lips. She heard a low growl rumble across her ear.  
"Good morning."  
"Good morning, my Lord" She replied, the sound of his title on her lips again sent a quiver shooting up his spine. Ele's eyes fluttered open to meet his longing gaze and together they shared a gentle kiss. Guy brushed the tip of his nose against hers before standing from the bed to redress in the clothes that had been thrown carelessly across the room amidst their passions. Ele groggily sat up, drawing her knees beneath her chin and hiding the scars on her inner arms under the bed sheets.  
"Must you really go?" She murmured. Guy said nothing as he buckled his trousers and flung the leather jacket over shoulders. He took Ele's face in his hands and kissed her deeply, his jacket hung open allowing her hands to wander freely over his chest and back. His hand drifted to her waist while the other cupped the back of her neck; Ele pulled against him and lay down, drawing him on top of her obeying every silent command given through the plush of her lips. His touch was so delicate with affection; Ele felt her blood beat in her ears as butterflies flitted about in her stomach, like a virgin bride on her wedding night.  
Guy pulled away to rest on his elbows, looking dazedly into Ele's eyes, wandering over her face, taking in what he could easily claim yet was loathed to collect.  
"Later, where will you be" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.  
"Knighton" She sighed  
"Although from what I gather, Knighton was almost Gisborne." She teased, lacing her fingers in Guy's hair.  
"Locksley is my Gisborne"  
"Does changing a name really make a difference; a rose by another other name would still smell as sweet." Ele questioned, curving her brow.  
"When a woman marries, she changes her name. It makes a difference" He kissed her again, running his tongue across her bottom lip begging admittance. After his performance last night Ele could hardly deny him and a heated battle ensued as they fought for the dominance of the kiss. Ele flipped Guy onto his back, straddled across his leather covered groin. She knew he had no intention to make love to her, at least not at that precise moment, but every sense in her was alive with longing for him and the tight bulge forcing against his trousers wasn't helping.  
"Stay?" She gave a little girl pout. From the grin Guy wore, Ele almost thought a repeat of last night may follow but then the annoying, interrupting bellow of the Sheriff came hurtling through the window. Ele rolled off of Guy with a grunt of frustration.  
"I can't" Trace notes of annoyance could be heard in his voice no matter how hard he tried to hide them. No more words were said, only innocent kisses as Guy sat on the edge of Ele's bed fastening his jacket. Ele draped her arms over Guy's shoulders embracing him. Guy took her hand, kissing her fingertips, over her wrist and up her arm, her skin like the softest satin to his lips. Another shout came from below. Ele nuzzled the side of his face permitting him to leave. Then with a final kiss guy stood, his hand dawdling on Ele until she was out of reach. He gave her a sad smile as he closed the door behind him; torn apart again.

When he was gone, Ele relented to a girly grin, admitting that she was aching in all the right places and her skin was a map of where his hands, and demanding mouth, had been. He had been a pure heat that seared every inch of her skin, licking like an unseen flame. She had writhed and whimpered under the skill of his tongue, surrendering to a torment she would have no end of. She thought of how easily she could get lost in those ominous, yet compelling, eyes and the dizzying combination of his attentive hands and hot, hungry mouth.  
In any other circumstance Ele would have welcomed the warm rush of love in her veins, however, now a cold lump of fear lodged in her throat.  
Ele leapt out of the bed and groped around on the floor beneath the bed. She pricked on her finger on the point and, pulled the dagger out from underneath, ashamed of her intentions while another part of her regretted not sheathing the solid steal in Guy's breast while he slept. Now, no matter what revenge she would wish for, Ele could not kill him, the smallest part of her cried with the loudest voice making him more precious to her than anything in the whole world.  
Rapidly Ele dressed in her leathers, covering them with a simple black gown. She stuffed what little possessions she had brought to the castle into the ebony box which had previously housed her leathers; Ele slung her mask into a saddle bag and sheathed the dagger in its holster at her waist. She took a single card from her tarot deck and slipped it underneath her wristlet before placing the remaining cards in the box along with everything else. Ele beckoned in her lady's-maid to make final preparations for her party of servants to leave for Knighton while Ele was otherwise detained, however, not mentioning that she would be going to be waiting along the Nottingham-Peterborough road ready to ambush the treaty on its way to London.

"What is the point of having a 'master-at-arms' if he's never bloody here!" The Sheriff barked just as Guy emerged from the castle doors.  
"My apologies my Lord, I over slept." He replied keeping his expression deadly serious and trying to maintain a somewhat lacking regal bearing. The Sheriff slanted an impatient look in Guys direction. They watched on as the treaty safely headed out of Nottingham with no interference from Hood. Guy found his thoughts once again returning to the quiet room high in the castle, back to the midnight visit that shouldn't have happened but he would never regret. His thoughts continued the memory of her lavender scent and soft, silky skin coiled around him. He tensed, his sex rousing at the very thought of her, however, the Sheriff's voice was enough to subdue any man.  
"Gisborne, saddle some riders, I want you to follow it. Just until it reaches the mercenaries in Tollerton." The Sheriff ordered smoothly. Reluctantly, Guy complied and hurried off to the castle stables.  
Now alone, the Sheriff chuckled to himself, containing the eruption of laughter to a smug grin. The whole castle, if not Nottingham, had probably heard Gisborne and his little whore last night. '_Apples'_ The Sheriff thought to himself, wandering back to his room; Vasey suspected that Eleanor, being Marian's sister, and the reappearance of the Nightwatchman was no mere coincidence. Merely the younger trying to live up to the elder, he just needed to prove it, and that would come sooner then he thought.  
No-one, besides Vasey, Gisborne and a trusted few Black Knights, knew the treaty's true location. If Eleanor was anything like her sister, she wouldn't have been able to resist eavesdropping after the banquet, especially as the doors had been deliberately left open. Also, if she was working against the Sheriff, having spent the night with Gisborne there was little chance she had warned Hood, leaving her trapped in a tangled web. The Sheriff laughed out loud as he passed the unconstructed gallows, the thought of her swinging by the neck put a sick smile on his face; then again, since she spent so long in France, maybe it would be prominent, if not entertaining, to execute her in a French fashion…

Ele made her way hastily down the outer steps of Nottingham castle.  
_Just a fantasy, just a fantasy!_ She repeated to herself to fight off the idea of Guy scooping her up in his arms and taking her back to bed. He had most definitely improved since their last encounter, well it had been six years, but she dare not dwell on the thought, yet with each resistance a stronger need battered its way through to her conscience.  
Lupis, the now named black horse, was in the deserted courtyard, saddled and waiting for his mistress. With a cautious look over her shoulder Ele mounted the beast. She went to raise her leg over the horse's back and ride English style before suddenly realising she was in a dress and should ride side-saddle. Ele readjusted herself hopeful that no-one had seen her amateur blunder, knowing that once safely outside of Nottingham she could ride at full speed to Knighton and discard the frumpy dress before changing horses and tracking the treaty, or even get ahead of it if she moved quickly. The wagon had long since left Nottingham but, thankfully, would be travelling slowly due to its size and the stamina of the entourage of guards.  
Through the streets of Nottingham Ele moved amongst the sea of people, watching as they went about their humble lives, complaining about the price of bread and listening to the ravings of heaven and hell with no objection, blissfully unaware of matters happening but a few feet from their doors. If those people, insignificant as they were, knew the wagon which had passed by moments ago contained something which could devour England, would they have let it pass so easily?  
And in an instant Ele understood why Marian, and possibly Robin, fought. Not for the King or for money but for innocence; the simple idea of living a life untainted by greed or suffering.  
'Silly girl' she barked under her breath, scolding herself.  
'Why do you fight? Revenge? Love…Lust?'  
A face in the crowd jolted Ele back from her daze. She knew that face and ginger hair from long ago, however, now appeared before her grown and if not a little haggard since the last time she saw him. He slipped through the crowd, Ele's memory panicked for his name, to cry out before he disappeared.  
"Mulch!" She shouted above the hustle. No reaction came, maybe he had not heard. She shouted again, not even the slightest twitch of recognition.  
"Much!!" This time it was a squeal, half excitement at having remembered his name and half embarrassment for mistaking it for half-rotten straw. Much peered round looking for whom had called out his name; he hardly recognized the figure sat daintily atop the black horse until he studied her features more carefully, at once knowing who she was when he saw her dark eyes like two dark abysses where light could never reach.  
"Lady Eleanor!" He yelped, his voice going a note Much hadn't been able to reach since he was six.  
"You're returned from…" He stopped abruptly, not entirely sure of where Ele had been or for what reason, and why should he? At the time of her departure Much's only duty had been to attend Robin in everyway, primarily ferrying love notes between his master and Marian.  
"France? Yes I've been back for sometime now." Ele knew she had no time to talk idly so sped the conversation straight to her purpose.  
"Are you still in the service of Robin of Locksley?" No doubt he would be, he had always stuck to Robin's side like hot tar, and to have abandoned him now would be highly unlikely.  
"Yes" He answered brightly. "I, I mean no…Not since the Holy Lands."  
Ele glared at him cynically; he never was a good liar.  
"Tell him there's a wagon soon to go through his forest and that it would be in his best interest to…'intercept' it." She flashed a devious smile and a mischievous wink at Much then urged her horse forward knowing that the faithful manservant would relay her message without fail.

Ele cast her eyes back to Nottingham Castle once she was outside the city walls. The sun had only crept over the horizon an hour prior to her departure yet the lighting was eerie and ethereal, a misty haze of pink and yellow shrouded the stony structure with an otherworldly glow. Even bathed in soft pastels, the castle held its air of menace. A shiver of apprehension coursed along Ele's limbs; as awe-inspiring as the castle was, even in the eyes of an outsider, there was no denying the feeling of a slumbering evil radiating in waves off the walls, as though a thousand sins and secrets loomed dangerously behind the chipped bricks and unrevealing windows.

Much watched as Ele disappeared out of the city gates. To think he had only came to by bread! Although pleased at the prospect of outsmarting the Sheriff, Much left Nottingham harbouring a slight agitation.  
'Love letters again!'

* * *

In Sherwood Forest, Robin's band of outlaws grew restless, even Robin who had maintain composure in the face of the Turk, was becoming tetchy. For the better part of the morning he had been making arrows, however, not as skilfully as Will. Then again his lack of attention to detail could easily boil down to the on going distraction of Save England or save the girl?  
He had barely slept making his temperament worse. The only plan that would save both is if Ele were to join Robin's gang and considering her taste for fine things and frequent baths, the likelihood of Ele consenting to such an idea was close to Nil. Robin threw the arrow he had been making forcefully to the side. It snapped as it hit the ground only aggravating Robin more; oh how much he wanted to scream.  
"Robin!" Much's voice drifted in from somewhere overhead. Robin barely moved.  
"I saw Lady Eleanor leaving Nottingham."  
Robin grunted in recognition.  
"She said to tell you that there is a wagon soon to pass through 'your forest', and…" Much's voice trailed away in Robin's ears; Robin looked to the forest floor, concealing a smile from the gang – 'My forest' – he thought back to himself with a conceited smirk. Robin got to his feet and grabbed his bow and slung his quiver over his shoulder, his sword already hanging at his side. Behind him Robin's men looked on puzzled.  
"Well?" He beckoned, jogging off in the direction of the road.

The outlaws knew the forest like the back of there hands and within minutes they were at the road. It bore no fresh foot prints, nor hoof prints nor wheel tracks – the Treaty had not yet gone by. Robin position himself atop a small incline not far from the road but hidden from view by a thick of trees and bushes. The outlaws quickly followed suite, concealing themselves just in time for a train of guards to march past; these men were only to secure the route; however, they were heavily armed. Robin counted four men with swords and two archers. The wagon wouldn't be too far behind, along with its own entourage of guards with the possibility of some being on horseback.  
"Master, remind me why we're here?" Much whispered his voice trimmed with anxiety at how out numbered the outlaws would be.  
"Quiet!" Robin quietly barked as the wagon rolled past. The crusader pivoted his head in the direction of Alan and John, then held out his hand and gave the cover signal to attack. The guards had not noticed the outlaws, even when they silently crept from their hiding places the guards were still totally oblivious. Just as Robin was about to deliver the first strike something dropped from the trees above, landing directly on top of the wagon. The guards turned on the masked assailant, noticing the outlaws in the process. Robin's gaze settled on the largest of them, now advancing on the outlaws, the black war fury boiling in Robin's gut. The figure jumped from the wagon knocking the large guard to the ground with a heavy kick to his jaw. They picked their way through the sheriff's men, one by one sending grown men to their knees with the clash of metal and the crush of broken bone, leaving Robin and his men to stand down and watch in awe; Robin unaware of the look of wonderment that sat on his features as his eyes followed the figure's every movement, dancing over the contours of their body and marvelling at their grace in battle.  
Armed men lay stunned and at the centre of it all the mysterious helper had taken no time to pride themselves in their handiwork, already they had begun to rummage through the numerous crates in the wagon. Robin felt a strange sense of déjà vu watching the Nightwatchman mimic but at least it was reassurance that someone else, besides from his small gang, was wiling to fight against the Sheriff. With no sign of another batch of guards, Robin saw it fit to approach; slowly he made his way down the mud bank, the dry leaves crunching beneath his feet. A twig snapped, startling the masked one. They whipped round ready for battle, arm stretched and dagger in hand. Robin raised his hands in submission and heard an almost laugh come from behind the white mask. The masked one turned back to the wagon and resumed exploring its cargo. Robin caught the glint of money and gold in most crates except one. Inside sat a large velvet purse, Robin took it in his hand and pulled at the drawstrings – a document lay inside, Robin's heart racing with anticipation. He unrolled it; it was written in French, it held all the Black Knights' signatures and seals, and titled in decorative calligraphy 'Traité de l'Ordre Noir'. Robin burst out with a laugh and embraced the masked one with thanks. Only on closer inspection did he recognise the dark brown eyes looking out from the mask with fiery intent.  
"Ele?!" He exclaimed, his voice coming as a breathless gasp. However, before she could utter a reply Robin noticed her eyes were looking past him and saw alarm in them. In the distance came the dreadful sound of horses rumbling through the forest. Robin turned to follow Ele's gaze; a black blur moving through the trees was steadily gaining on the outlaws, several black riders were bearing down on them, Gisborne at the head.  
When Robins back was fully turned away from Ele, a soft hand grasped his wrist and forced a card into his hand. He looked to her but she had vanished leaving Robin to run or face Sir Guy. Robin quickly glanced at the card that was nestled in his palm; another tarot card lay between his fingers, this time and image of a lion entitled 'Strength' stared up at him.  
"Well..." He sighed with a little mischievous grin creeping across his face as his gang took what they could from the abandoned wagon before rallying to Robin awaiting orders.  
"My gang" A devious, childlike glint in his eyes.  
"Time to disappear." He smiled and burst into a run, leading his outlaws to the safety of their forest retreat.

Ele took a sword from one of the fallen guards and ran in the opposite direction of the outlaws, all too aware of the pound of horse's hooves drawing closer. In her haste to flee her hood came free and she scraped the side of her face on a rough edge of a branch. The cut burned her cheek and she felt the hot trickle of blood near her ear. But she ignored the searing burn of torn flesh and the crush of the sword on her hip, now shouts came from the riders, they had spotted her and now were in full pursuit. There was no way any man let alone Ele could out run a horse. She turned to face to on coming assault. The first rider was deadly close, wielding his sword ready to cut Ele down. Ele raised her sword above her head and jumped to the horse's side at the very last second, bringing the blade down over the creature's knees and sending both rider and beast flying forward. This bought her time but not much for the other riders had dismounted and where advancing on Ele, enclosing her in a deadly circle. One jumped her; the two blades slapped together sending a spark of heat as one length of steel crashed against the other. The rider's defensive dropped providing Ele a window to deal the disarming blow. She swiped across his belly, enough to draw blood but he would not die. The rider fell back clutching his stomach, no other man moved, Gisborne entered the ring, sword drawn and blood boiling. Something cold clamped down around his chest when he saw the white mask that had haunted him nights before. He knew he had killed Marian, he had held her before Hood arrived and this was no dream…  
Guy threw the first strike and in return took a vicious slice to his left shoulder as Ele evaded the attack with speed, having moved in a blink and appearing on the other side of him, grinning in triumph underneath her mask. They flew at one another in a swirl of rage and cold, deathly steel. Guy drove Ele back with blow after relentless blow until he forced his opponent down. Guy readied himself to deliver the final, killing blow but a muffled womanly cry came from beneath him. He ripped of the mask, his eyes fixed on Ele's face in pure hatred, his pupils permanently narrowed in rage. When he saw the mask he suspected Ele but denied all reason even though in his heart he knew.  
"Bind her hands." He said coldly, remounting his horse without even glancing at her.  
"Guy." She pleaded hopelessly for some response; fearful that she may have broken the last part of her precious Gisborne that was human.  
"And gag her as well."

* * *

**OooOoo, reviews if you want to find out what happens next! Hmm think Guy has been a little too nice so far, I think now is the opportune moment to release the sexy, irresistibly evil Guy J… And for the readers who are finicky about stuff, I know I quoted Shakespeare (A rose by any other name…) and shouldn't have because he came after blah blah I don't care! It's from Romeo and Juliet, greatest love story on earth and pretty dam apt for the situation!! Hehehe**

**Anyway, if I do continue I may post again in a week or two depends on how much work I have to do etc. xx**


	9. Chapter 9

**I return! Sorry for not updating any sooner but work got in the way as always and I got writers block. Anyway onto the next chapter…**

_

* * *

__He ripped of the mask, his eyes fixed on Ele's face in pure hatred, his pupils permanently narrowed in rage. When he saw the mask he suspected Ele but denied all reason even though in his heart he knew.  
_"_Bind her hands." He said coldly, remounting his horse without even glancing at her.  
_"_Guy." She pleaded hopelessly for some response; fearful that she may have broken the last part of her precious Gisborne that was human.  
_"_And gag her as well."_

* * *

The dungeon air was hot and sticky. Eleanor knelt motionless on clammy cell floor, her hands chained high above her head with her face leant against her left arm. She had become accustomed to the sounds that had battered her senses since capture, from the crackle of the torches to the drip of water leaking through stone. She had been there for what seemed hours but in the dungeon time did not exist, only night and day, for there was no sun to guide you or church bell to herald in the pasting hour, only the burning torches and muffled screams of tortured inmates to keep you company. Not even with the spectres of Gisborne or Vasey to harass her, only her subconscious to berate her for not seeing through the Sheriff's now blatant ploy.  
A different sound came now; footsteps echoing through the dungeons gradually drawing closer, and instinctively Ele fought against the wild hope that it was Robin coming to rescue her. Vasey came to mind unbidden, watching in glee as Ele suffered or a jailer come to interrogate and torture her. The footsteps came to a stop and Ele looked up, his shadow filled the archway the drape of his black overcoat, his dark clothes and silky jet hair absorbing the poor light.  
"How's your shoulder?" There was no reply as he stepped into the light. Ele cast her eyes to the floor but could feel his continuous gaze pinned on her. He unlocked the cell and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him, before carefully propping himself against the bars. Using the chains, Ele pulled herself to her feet so at least it would occur to him that her spirit was yet to be broken.  
"You realise that the punishment for being in co-operation with Hood, is death" Sir Guy sneered, standing a safe distance away from her.  
"Well then it's a good thing I only work for myself!" her reply came quickly and sharp, leaving an evocative smile painted across Ele's lips.  
"You're still an outlaw, for which the penalty is also death."  
"What's the matter Guy? Feel betrayed?" In sudden retaliation Guy grabbed her by the throat, there was a tense silence as he drew his face menacingly close to Ele's.  
"Do not play games with me" he growled huskily squeezing slightly on her delicate neck, Ele did not squirm or wince but leant forward unafraid to confront him.  
"Pity, I enjoyed the last game we played." her breathless voice tinged with mock venom but suggestive and provocative, setting a hungry fire in Gisborne's eyes. He released his grip and placed his hands on the wall trapping Ele beneath him.  
"So tell me, what do you do to naughty girls around here?" Ele queried suggestively, their faces so close they could feel the others hot breath on their skin. Guy's hand lazily trailed from the wall over her neck to the top of her leather jacket, slowly unfastening the toggles to reveal the thin linen shirt she wore underneath. Ele bit her lip in agitation and looked at him from under heavy eyelids, urging him on. Suddenly the sound of a bolt sliding out of place rattled the dungeon and Guy promptly drew away, composing himself against the bars, back to the cold aloof machine the Sheriff had made.  
"You are to be beheaded at dawn." He did not look at her, couldn't bear to see the hopeless glint in her dammed eyes; just as Marian had looked to him before she fell to the ground and died shortly after. Eyes averted, Guy unlocked the cell door and stepped out into the corridor, only then did he dare to look back through the safety of bars. He took a brief glance unable to tolerate another second of his confusion caused by her, Guy quickly turned and went to make his way out but she called his name, pulling him back to her like a fish caught on a line.  
"It is often customary for a condemned prisoner to granted one final request. Will you honour this?" Guy reproached her at a measured pace.  
"You need but answer one question, a single word and you can leave" He nodded, still looking past her. Ele went to speak but paused as though she was reconsidering her words. For a moment she seemed confused, her eyes searched for meaning in the unfeeling dungeon and set her gaze on Guy fixing her resolve.  
"Did you kill my sister?" Her voice was weak asking the dreaded question, she did not want to know the answer for she already knew it, but as loathed as she was to ask she needed to hear the confession from his mouth. There was a long pause, one that seemed to last an age as she waited.  
"Yes" He uttered without meeting her gaze, smoothly slipping out of the dungeon without casting his eyes back to the damage. Ele's stomach became a knot as it tied in a mixture of guilt, loathing and heavy sadness; her knees trembled and she felt the nagging at the back of her mind, her arms itched for the little cuts that released the hate and the pain. Ele bit back a cry clamping her jaw tight on the quivering bottom lip, drawing blood leaving a bitter, acidic, taste in her mouth. She hated and loved him; she wanted him dead but couldn't entertain the thought of being without him, which to choose, duty and loyalty, or devotion and love?  
The dungeon door bolted shut and once again Ele was alone with her despair, torn between her emotions with nothing but darkness and hope to tease her. She glanced to the bar grate letting in sunlight and air, and only then did she realise the sun was setting. A sense of urgency took her now, night was the time for escape and she had no plan. Night in the dungeon was unbearable, with no sun there was no concept of time. Five minutes turned into half an hour, an hour lasted a lifetime.  
Once more came the sound of boots pounding on the stone floor and echoing through the dungeon to Ele. Three guards stormed into view and removed Ele from her cell; surely this wasn't a rescue attempt. From their crude manner and coarse treatment Ele thought not. They proceeded to drag her out of the dungeon, paying no attention to her falling up the stairs, and up out into the castle courtyard. The scaffold stood ominously in the dark, Ele panicked. She knew the Sheriff would try anything to outwit the outlaws but a midnight execution was a little excessive, even for him. Her only comfort was that a carriage waited for her, not the gallows, however so did Vasey.  
"Ah! Lady Eleanor. I trust you room is to your liking" He sniggered before climbing into the carriage. Ele was pushed in shortly after to a seat next to a guard and opposite Vasey. Guy sat next to him, aloof as ever, diverting his eyes from her as though her image insulted him. The carriage lurched into motion, the Sheriff grinned and for once since returning, Ele was truly afraid.

The night was drawing in and the summer air grew cold in the moonlight. Robin sat by the fire absent-mindedly watching the flames lick at the rabbits Much was roasting, and anxiously waiting for Ele to arrive at camp and translate the treaty. John was snoozing in a chair while Alan tended his sword, sending the odd spark in Much's direction as he ran a flint sharpening stone along the blade.  
"Do you mind?!" a sudden shout came from Much as one of the sparks came dangerously close to his ankle. Before an argument broke out Robin quelled the disturbance, berating Much for being offended so easily. The atmosphere was still heavy and Allan felt pressed to speak, if only to break the silence.  
"So, the new Nightwatchman. Do we know who it is?" The outlaws glared at Allan, even Much who had never been one for brains had grasped the concept that it was Ele.  
"Lady Eleanor of Knighton. Marian's kid sister, and the one who is going to translate this for us." Robin said signalling to the treaty. "We need to know what we're up against".  
"So…where is she?"  
A good question. Something in Robin snapped and his mind was made, he could stomach no more of this waiting. Robin abruptly got to his feet and dismissed himself to the forest, not before putting a groggy Little John in charge of the camp though. Robin would go to Knighton, if Ele was not there he would go to Nottingham, he would even scour the whole of Sherwood Forest until he found her. The thought of Ele bothered him; he had never seen her skill with a sword, hand-to-hand she was indeed talented but she had the element of surprise to aid her and wasn't fighting off several of the Castle's elite Black Riders. What if she was dead? Surely the Sheriff wouldn't have a spare treaty. Robin shook the idea off, now was not the time to be paranoid.  
He wandered into the forest till the sound of his gang sunk away into the inky night, his gang that he was slowly becoming withdrawn from. It could not be helped, ever since the Holy Lands something had changed in Robin and no matter how much he may try to be like his old self, his efforts were in vain. Most would tribute this to Marian's death but it was not her dying breath that had Robin restless in his sleep. The King had been repeatedly warned off the Sheriff's treachery and yet he did nothing, even after having an arrow in his back the King had made no move to pursue Vasey. In fact, short of gratitude for saving his life and pity over Robin's loss, the King had done very little. By no means did Robin assume that he would return from the crusades and personally hunt Vasey down, but some response would have been helpful, even if it were just to issue a warrant or send a couple of loyal men to dispatch him. Robin was disenchanted, was he really fighting for a King who seemed to care very little, even after having his own life endanger by the threat Robin fought, had Marian died for so little? These thoughts were dangerous, bordering on treason, but some truth echoed in them.  
On foot it took Robin half an hour to reach Knighton, what he found came as no great surprise, he had expected as much when Ele failed to show at sunset. The house was silent, the windows were black, and the only sign of life came from the kitchen where servants sat redundant with no master to order them. There were no guards to harass them and no Gisborne imposing himself on land that he didn't own, nor had any right to. There was a snap from behind Robin, he quickly turned with his sword drawn only to find the blade pointing at Much.  
"Much! I could have killed you!" Robin shouted in a hushed manner.  
"But you didn't." Much replied quickly "I thought you might need help."  
Robin was about to object but he knew how often simple things became complicated thanks to the Sheriff. Much and Robin remained at a distance from the house observing the servants do very little and no soldiers show. Robin opted to go alone into the house; his only instruction was for Much to stay put unless something happened. As Robin approached the main entrance he noticed there was no sound, the house held a deathly silence, even the stables were oddly quiet. Sure of foul play Robin held his sword in front, poised for action and stepped inside the empty house to look for Ele.  
Outside Much watched with trepidation as Robin was swallowed into the stillness. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until he heard the soft clatter of hooves on mud approach the hall. Much ducked out of view, watching as eight soldiers dismounted and crept in after Robin. Much's first thought was to run in and slaughter the lot of them but on reflection he knew it was more than likely that more would arrive and he and Robin would be heavily out numbered. Instead Much rushed forward and stole two of the abandoned horses, with more time he would have taken three but for Robin's sake Much would share a saddle with Allan. As fast as the horses' hooves could take him, Much sped off into the forest, John's horse in tow, hoping the entire gang would arrive in time to be of any help.

Back inside Knighton Hall Robin shouted for Ele, but no reply came except the hollow echo of an empty house. The muscles in Robin's shoulders tensed as he ventured upstairs; the rooms were empty, the beds had not been slept in and Ele's bathtub remained unfilled. He cried out again, nothing. Robin emerged from Ele's room onto the landing overlooking the entrance hallway. Then out of nowhere a slow, menacing clap beat at Robin's ears tripping of instinctual alarms in every nerve of his body.  
"Nice house." The Sheriff strode into the hall where Robin could see him.  
"Shame about the drapes" He beamed. Guardedly Robin made way his way down the stairs, his sword still ready for battle and every sense heightened by the immediate danger.  
"Ah ah. Not in front of a lady"  
Ele was led in by a guard with a dagger held at her throat. Her hands were bound with thick rope and at the base of her neck lay a gag, which had only been removed moments ago. The Sheriff raised his hand and the guard pressed the dagger to the soft flesh.  
"Do you mind" Vasey chirped, gesturing to Robin's sword. Reluctantly Robin lowered his weapon, Vasey sniggered and the guard drew blood at the furthest part of Ele's neck with the point of the blade. Robin laid his sword on the floor, only then did the guard desist from slicing Ele's throat open.  
"You see Gisborne, apples and trees." Guy finally followed in after his master like the obedient dog he was.  
"Same tree, same fruit. I was surprised though, I thought this little apple was just a spy, but a replica now that is impressive Hood… Don't you think Gisborne" He asked, flashing his dark piercing eyes at Robin hoping to provoke some rash response. Gisborne glanced at her; feral, hate-filled eyes pinned Ele where she stood like the dagger that was held to her throat. Gisborne gave a dismissive grunt before resuming glaring at Robin – he falls in love with two women and both dismiss him like cheap cloth for an outlaw. Vasey watched as the fury in Robin flared like an untamed fire only to cackle in his face.  
"Suppose you want to know about the treaty." Robin's attention peaked but only as he felt the hilt of a sword came down over the back of his head, Robin was plummeting to the floor and then everything went black.  
"Then again I'm not one for evil monologues." The Sheriff led his henchmen and hostage from the house, the carriage was already waiting outside. The Sheriff nodded to the guard who knocked Robin unconscious who was now wielding a flaming torch, on Vasey's command he handed it to Gisborne.  
"I believe you've had experience with this."  
Gisborne looked at the torch in his hand, for a moment he was lost in the flicker, but that flash of humanity was quickly snuffed out. He held it to the thatch and wood beams the fire spread quickly along the cheap plaster and dry thatch, engulfing the house in an orange inferno.  
"ROBIN!" Ele screeched her voice piercing the night air as she kicked at the guard restraining her. She fought against the arms stuffing her back into the carriage; she screamed and wailed like a banshee against her captors, straining to save Robin.  
"No! Let me go!!" The horses were urged forward and they were hastily deserting the scene. Ele went to lunge at the Sheriff but the glint of a dagger ready to embed itself in her stomach stopped Ele in her path.  
"You cruel, cold hearted bastard!" She shouted before rattling off a string of French obscenities including something to do with the Sheriff's mother and a hamster. Suitably annoyed, Vasey ordered Ele's gag be put back in place, however, this didn't stop her from raising her muffled voice so the odd word crept out.

The sensation of smoke filling his lungs gradually woke Robin, the back of his head pounded and his eyes burned because of the smog. He got to his feet and held his wrist to his mouth and nose, breathing through the fabric but still taking in the smoke. Everywhere he looked flames walled him in. Then suddenly one of the weak walls ripped open and Little John, wrapped in his thick leather coat burst into the hellhole. He emerged unscathed at Robin's side but the hole in the wall supplied the fire with fresh air, and the flames licked high, creating a deadly obstacle course for the outlaws. Suddenly a beam fell from above, blocking their path. Behind the stairs began to collapse, the dry wood fuelling the fire. The way to Allan and Much by the door was blocked, John and Robin were trapped.  
Ele cried throughout the night, the sound of her sobbing carried by the stillness so those outside could feel her sorrow. She had failed her sister, Robin was dead and any hope for England or Ele's own redemption was buried beneath the ashes. A cold draft swept through her cell, freezing her face where tears had run freely. Far off she heard the morning call of the cockerel and all her sadness turned to fury, like a man possessed she pulled at the chains that bound her. Again and again the metal clashed on bone as she tore herself from the wall. It was a futile attempt, the iron held fast in the stone and she had to bring her wrists to breaking point before finally giving up. There was no way out till they came for her which could not be long now. Ele contemplated escape, even with the odds mounted against her Ele could fight her way out if she was daring, should she die then at least it would be more honourable than kneeling before the Sheriff, however, this course would result in her being scattered in several small pieces across the courtyard. Then again what would it matter, any route available ended in her death. The only difference would be how she met that end and whether she died with dignity.  
Ele thought now on the subject of dignity; an escape attempt, albeit a feeble one, would suggest desperation, which can be taken for cowardice whilst dying with dignity brings the characteristics of a martyr to mind. No doubt an escape is what the Sheriff hoped for, a chance to prove the outlaws were nothing but petty thieves who in the face of death were reduced to snivelling children.  
Escape only appears heroic when it is successful; otherwise it seems the last act of a desperate criminal. If the Sheriff could not defeat the outlaws in entirety, belittling was the nearest thing to accomplishment. Ele had never much cared for the troubles of politics, but the Sheriff was nothing but pure cruelty drawn from the depths of hell to torment, however, regardless of motive Ele could not kneel before him and grant him the satisfaction of defeat.  
She had decided when they came for her; she would go with her dignity. She would not tremble nor cry, but be regal and noble above the Sheriff, who if put in the same position would be squealing like a baby. She would be a lady and a martyr for what ever cause claimed her name. Should any person offer the opportunity of heroism she would gladly go with them, but until then she would retain her dignity. Then it came, the dreaded sound of guards walking in unison like the beat of the execution drum. It was time.  
Ele steadily got to her feet, smoothing over her clothing and brushing away what dirt she could reach. The guards unlocked the cell and opened the door. Ele expected them to come to her next but they did not, they stood in columns beside her door making way for a hooded figure. Ele recognised him as a man of God, the habit and the Bible were somewhat of an obvious give away. Once the priest was inside the guards released Ele from her shackles and locked the cell once more.  
"I am to die today. To whom am I speaking?"  
The priest placed the Bible on the stool which Vasey had placed in Ele's cell, just out of reach to taunt her. He raised his hands and lowered his hood. He revealed a friendly face but it had seen tougher times, however, Ele found it strange that the castle, considering its many prejudices, would use the services of a black man. Regardless of race it was a comfort that Ele had this final freedom before she was sent to hell.  
"I am Brother Tuck" He said smoothly, the authorial tone in his voice soothing Ele's edged nerves that she may maintain some composure.  
"Brother? Surely that should be Friar?" She quipped with a gentle smile. He chuckled in response.  
"Not quite yet I'm afraid."  
With the ice broken Ele accepted his offer to read her the last rights. Although she did not listen to the words she heard his voice, funny to think that his voice may be the last good thing she would hear in this life. Once the prayer was over Tuck alerted the guards that he was finished. However, before leaving he whispered to Ele:  
"You will not die today" Before being hustled out by the guards. Tuck disappeared to the castle above and then the guards turned their attention to Ele. She was led out walking between two with three more covering their back. She paused just before the exit, closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. The frigid night air hit her face as she pushed open the heavy doors and stepped outside. Dawn was just breaking and the courtyard was empty, Vasey and Gisborne stood at the top of the stairs leading to castle observing as Ele was taken to the scaffold.  
"Well Gisborne, you got what you wanted, no public execution. You certainly know how to take the fun out of things." Guy remained silent, the expression on his face unreadable as he watched Ele cross the courtyard. He wanted to save her but the will to do so could not penetrate his obedience and want for power. Guy felt cold, he had seen this before only there had been crowds and it was Marian being led. When Marian had her hair shorn in front of the crowd Vasey had murmured '_Wasted beauty'_, the words swilling in Guy's mind as he saw Vasey's eyes avid as that of his hawks swooping in for the kill.  
Inside her chest Ele could feel her heart racing, it beat so hard she thought it was going to explode. It was taking ever ounce of her concentration to remain in control and not break down. All around her was silent was she climbed the few steps. At the top she found no noose, only straw and a man in a hooded mask. She had seen this before in France, she was to be beheaded. The convicted would kneel before the straw facing away from the executioner, make their peace with God and he would strike, the sword cutting through bone and muscles in one quick swipe, no hacking away like the axes the English usually used. Ele wondered what had granted her such a privilege but what did it matter, whether by rope or blade she was going to die. Her heart raced faster and faster, she thought she was going to vomit. The swordsman knelt before her.  
"Madame, forgive me for what I must do" He had a Nottingham accent, no expensed spared on the Sheriff's part.  
"Gladly" She pardoned him as she placed her hand on his head. Before submission Ele looked to Sheriff.  
"You have denied me an audience, I'm almost disappointed." She spoke, eyeing the small crowd pressed against the castles gates trying to see in. "Never the less I will address your soldiers, for they are good a man as any.  
"I have come here to die according to the law and yield myself to the will of the Sheriff. I beseech you all to pray for the life of King Richard, the true king of England. My sovereign lord and yours, that he may return and rid this country of the poison that has corrupted it so. Now I take my leave of the world and of you. And I heartily desire for you all to pray for the king."  
The crowd outside let out a roar, the gates rattled as they struggled against it. Even some of the guards, who were on the Sheriff's pay, seemed stirred by Ele's little speech. True she didn't particularly hold such patriotism, but she knew it would rally the peasants and it would be her final show of defiance.  
As she kneeled Ele's eyes searched for some hope, Robin miraculously appearing gang in tow or even Tuck come to save her, just the rabble outside near rioting. No hope came for her, even her final peace was interrupted by the Sheriff.  
"Come on, get on with it!"  
Ele laughed, she must have looked mad. Her laughter kept coming, its source? Thinking of her heart and how fast and strong her blood was beating through her neck, for some perverse reason the image of blood spurting from her neck three foot into the air brought a smile to her lips. She looked back to Guy, to think little than a day ago he was kissing the neck which was about to be kissed by the blade. She smiled innocently at him, receiving a warming look in response.

Behind her the swordsman moved.

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**That's not the end!! I will return...eventually. Thanks for waiting so long, I'm sorry I didn't update sooner. Read and review, if you'd be so kind xx**


	10. Chapter 10

**Lo I return! After several oreos and season 1 and 2 rewatches, I've finally done the next chapter. Sorry for the delay have been preparing for finals (yay) so writing was 2nd**** to revising, had a vacation (with no internet access), editor went away for a bit, and the BBC pixies have been at my files again so had to rewrite the entire chapter (and final chapter plans)! Hopefully this longer chapter will make up for it.**

…**Also have been mourning…anyone who saw the last episode will know why :'(**

**SEASON 3 EPI 10 SPOILERS!! well tiny spoiler but best be on safe side :)**

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_She looked back to Guy, to think little than a day ago he was kissing the neck which was about to be kissed by the blade. She smiled innocently at him, receiving a warming look in response._

_Behind her the swordsman moved._

* * *

Robin and John choked on the fumes, the smoke drying the moisture on their tongue and burning their throat and lungs. Outside, with the help of the resident servants, Allan and Much threw water onto the flames in a desperate attempt to extinguish the fire. However, their efforts, try as they might, were in vain, for the body of the fire was strong and with each small burst that was put out another sprung up in its place. Inside Robin and John were nauseous from the temperature, the heat draining any strength they had left. Another beam fell behind them, a couple more and the house would cave in on them. Then Robin saw the flames burst from where the beam had fallen, air was getting to the flames, there was a way out! Robin's eyes strained against the smoke; the wall of the kitchen had fallen through revealing the servant stairway which had yet to catch light. Robin supported John and they rushed across the building to the curling stairs. The second floor too was burning in every direction the only option was a small window. Robin looked at it, then at John, then back to the window. Throwing caution to the wind Robin jumped through the window and climbed onto the unstable roof before pulling John through the hole. He fitted, just, but it was arguable to whether the already strained roof could take the weight of two men. Robin heard another beam go and behind the roof slacked as its support was lost. There was no way down except to jump. Robin eyed a large bush which reached the ceiling of the ground floor of the house.  
"John do you trust me?"  
"What?"  
"I'll take that as a yes" Robin launched himself at John, sending them both hurtling off the roof and landing in the berry bush. Away from the flames they gasped at the fresh air, sweeping their lungs of the soot. Once his strength returned Robin immediately got to his feet and ran to the stables, freeing the horses that had begun to panic because of the flames and smoke. He ordered his men to mount and quickly they were racing down road and field, the burning Knighton lost in the background as they sped to Nottingham. It was a race against time now and Robin would not fail Marian again.

The castle was quiet, too quiet, holding the same eeriness as Knighton Hall before the Sheriff sprung his trap. Guards were absent and the castle gates were open, Vasey was welcoming the outlaws to the castle. The air smelt heavily of copper, of blood and an unsavourily sense of foreboding crept over the outlaws. Underfoot the ground was wet, the stone in front of the scaffold was lined with straw that squelched with their every step. Robin scanned the courtyard; there were no gallows, no ominous ropes swinging in the breeze. Curious he stepped up to the platform where he was presented with a grisly mess. There was more soaked straw and wood here.  
"Robin.." Allan called from below, his eyes fixed on front wall of the castle. Robin dreaded to turn and face it for he had a good idea what sight would meet him. Set on a high spike was a bloody sphere; blood caked the long brown tresses of hair, fair skin stained and eyes closed in death. He had failed her.  
Tears began to sting at the corners of Robin's eyes and he steadied his lip on his wrist. He could not make his throat form words. He swore that he would keep Ele safe, if not for his sake for Marian's, and he failed both of them. Hot tears escaped and ran freely down his cheeks, the sorrow made worse when Robin considered what was likely to become of Ele's remains. She had been beheaded, a traitors death, blood boiled like hot oil in Robin's veins. He wanted vengeance. He had once told Vasey that if he ever hurt another innocent person to get to Robin, he would kill him. Now he had done so, more than hurt, killed in cold blood. Robin ran towards the castle doors, drawing his sword as he charged with an almighty roar. His foot hit the first step and the next then he was hurled backwards as John's steady arms grabbed hold. It took all three of his men to restrain Robin and take him back to the forest. The rage that had consumed him after Marian's death roused itself once more, to pound the drum of war like a mantra for the Sheriff's destruction.

Ele watched from above as Robin's men dragged him out the castle from the chilling sight of this morning's execution. She tried to scream for them but the stone and glass caged her calls like the song of the Lark being cut by bars of captivity. The damned priest had been right, she didn't die; they executed a servant girl with the right shade of hair. Ele had knelt before the swordsman, she had felt the sword move close behind her, the blade had been moments away from relief when the Sheriff halted proceedings. The girl, someone who had cared for Ele during her short stay as a castle guest, was dragged out, kicking and wailing, her face soaked with tears. She did not want to die and Ele would have gladly taken her place but no, the girl was hauled onto the scaffold and made to kneel. The swordsman moved, the blade struck and the girl's life was ended. So it was that Ele found herself in one of the few rooms in the castle with glass windows and it made her feel more than uneasy. Vasey's bedroom was furnished with the opulence of a King; a large four-poster bed, plush chairs, exotic birds and numerous leather bound books. There were no chains, no shackles, no instruments of torture of any kind, yet this was to be Ele's prison. It was a strange prison for she was not bound to anything rather, she was free to wander about the room, the door was even unlocked - although on the other side were several guards. If it weren't that she was in the sheriff's bedroom Ele may have thought herself very comfortable indeed.  
Ele banged the base of her palm on the glass of the window in some feeble attempt to draw attention to her lofty cell. The glass was surprisingly resilient and refused to break. The outlaws were long gone by the time Ele gave up, from her place by the window she sank to the floor contemplating the hopelessness of her situation. Suddenly there was a noise from outside the door, the recognisable satirical tone of Vasey followed by the boots of his lapdog. Ele quickly got to her feet and moved to the centre of the room, she wouldn't be backed into a corner, especially not in Vasey's own chamber. The doors swept open and the Sheriff entered like a conquering hero returning from a glorious victory. Vasey stalked into the room while Guy remained at the door.  
"Lady Eleanor, how do you like your new cell? Comfortable? Aww… did wittle Wobin and his merry Morons not save you?" The Sheriff was practically bouncing that one of his plans had finally worked. Vasey eyed Ele as he circled her somewhat like a vulture may swoop upon a dying lamb.  
"Such a pretty little apple" He murmured near her ear. She heard a growl and a soft hiss of breath skating across her neck. She sensed fury in that slow, wordless exhalation and it chilled her.  
"Rotten apple" this time his voice sinking lower and more deadly. To Ele's relief the Sheriff backed off, going to play with his birds while still carrying the same insensate cruelty and arrogance. Ele glared at him, her eyes livid with raw disgust.  
"If you want the treaty you'll get nothing from me, I don't know where it is" Ele attempted to keep her voice mellow and indifferent but couldn't help the bite of aggression that ended her words. The Sheriff laughed, the hollow cackle seemed to echo about the room.  
"Treaty? Ha! One big ruse to prove your loyalties. No, no my dear I have something much bigger planned. Would you like to know?" He bounded across the room and pushed Ele into a chair, moving swiftly behind her and gripping her wrists to the arms of the chair.  
"Why should I work for Prince John, when I could be Prince John" He lowered his head so his mouth was level with her ear before whispering sweetly "And you my dear are going to help. Your little arrangement with the Prince…" he noted the uninvited look surprise in her eyes no matter how hard she may try to remain composed. "Oh, you thought I didn't know. You thought you were being extremely clever and sly. Not quite." He chuckled to himself and flashed a jewelled grin at her with a vain conceit. At that moment the doors creaked open and a heavily built guard walked in.  
"M'lord the Bishop of Hereford has arrived, he is in the chapel." The smile sank from the Sheriff's face, he stared towards the door but stopped at Guy. He placed his hand on Guy's right shoulder with a firm grip.  
"Guy, if you cross me now, or ever, I will do unto you what God did to the sodomites." His voice returning to the dark low that had crossed Ele minutes before. The Sheriff stalked out of the room, the unfamiliar spring in his step now settling in for a long stay. Ele and Guy were alone. The tension in the room grew heavy and thick like a dense fog clinging to the morning frost. Ele felt pressed to say something but what? How could she excuse doing the right thing and how could she reason loving the authority while defying it. Some time passed as the two remained in silence, contemplating one another without a sound. Then with his black, sneering coolness Guy turned on his heels.  
"Tell me Guy." Ele called after him, her motive obscure between plain insolence and keeping him near. "Which voice do you keep alive in your head? The foolish girl who thought she loved you or her sister, who would rather die then be with you." The remark stopped the man in his tracks, blasting through the near impenetrable defence of male pride. However, it did not silence him. He turned once more to face her, their eyes meeting, daring the conflict on. If looks could kill, Guy would have been six feet under long before now, the way Ele eyed him threw as many daggers as a knife thrower threw at the assistant. Each with precision aim, hitting directly where intended; his pride, his vanity, even his blackened heart could not escape unscathed.  
"Eleanor of Knighton, daughter of the former Sheriff of Nottingham, now look at you, you're nothing but a common outlaw." He said with a sneer, thinking that he would have silenced the impudent girl.  
"Guy of Gisborne…no wait, that's as far as your title goes doesn't it? Then again I suppose Guy of Gisborne, son of a Leper, doesn't quite have the same ring to it."  
Ele may have provoked the beast just a tad too far. The snap in Guy could be physically noted at the mention of his diseased father. He struck her hard across the face with the back of his hand. She cradled her face waiting for blood to trickle from her nose or her lip but none was drawn, however, Ele could feel the lump forming above her lip, wonderful. Any sane person at this point would either return the hit or, if they liked their facial features, remain quiet and aggravate their attacker no further. However, in Ele's case the line between logic and mad man was decidedly hazy.  
"Now look at you, you're nothing but the Sheriff's lackey."  
"The Sheriff will give me power, and when you and Hood are dead I will have both your lands."  
Ele drew close to his face, her eyes almost level with his if not for the height difference.  
"What makes you so certain? Promise that in writing did he?" She laughed "You're a tool Guy. One Big Tool" She paused between the words of her last sentence to add emphasis and maybe a little evocation as her smoky eyes drifted down his leather suit. Guy was speechless; dumbfounded by fury he left in a squall, thunder clicking at his heels. Ele cursed under her breath as the chamber doors slammed shut. In her solitude she considered the room which was to be her prison for now. A lavish bed, provided that the Sheriff would not be joining her, was far more comfortable than anything to dungeons could offer and shelves stocked with plenty of books, many strewn over the centre table, to keep her entertained. It was to the table her attention was drawn. On it lay her precious box, her tarot cards safely inside, and a brown leather bag from Knighton. There were also several documents each bearing the Sheriff's insignia, at once Ele wondered whether these were left out intentionally or had Vasey been careless. Nevertheless her curiosity drove her onwards. As she examined the papers Ele began to understand Vasey's plan.

The Bishop sat alone in the Castle chapel silently meditating in the appropriate pious manner of a clergyman. He muttered in Latin as the Sheriff noisily bounced into the serene room, his accomplishment still fuelling his good mood. Vasey sat beside the Bishop, who remained in prayer, and tapped his fingers repeatedly on the wooden pew.  
"Stop praying already"  
"Vasey, I'm praying"  
"I just said that. Are you deaf too? I know you're blind, because if you had seen how much gold is safely locked away you'd have tears in you eyes."  
"Sometimes there are more important things to life than money" The Bishop's expression remained flat and pallid, his attention never leaving the string of rosaries that was twisted in his fingers.  
"Really? If you can name me one thing, one single thing, that is more sublime than the feel of a shiny new coin between my fingers, I will build you a new cathedral. No wait, I'm already doing that."  
"Vasey, I am trying to prey"  
"Yes, yes… is everything in place? I've done my part; soldiers are assembling, the what's and where's are in order, and Hood is no longer a threat."  
The Bishop silently rose from his seat, almost floating.  
"Everything is… as it should be. I trust my 'payment' has been arranged." His virtuous visage finally cracked bearing the sordid glimmer in his perverted expression.  
"Ready and waiting in my chambers for a game of Bishops and Bandits… your Excellency" Vasey's lips spread into a sadistic grin and he chuckled. The Bishop hovered out of the chapel and away to his chambers to prepare for the evening, Vasey followed close behind, the smug spring still in his step. However, neither had taken much notice of Tuck who had been attending the idol of Mary.

To Robin the world seemed emptier somehow, dimmer without those sisters to challenge everything. When Marian died Robin felt hollow, now that space had been filled with a black hatred for everything, especially the Sheriff. The gang made its way back to the forest in silence, Robin walked several steps ahead of the small group. Overhead the birds were singing and Robin hated them for it; blissfully chirping when such evil things were happening. He hated that the trees were so green and cheery while Ele's body was put to butchery and it was all his fault. He had left Ele to defend herself, he let her be captured. When they arrived at camp Robin flung himself into a chair, his silent fury and guilt burning his brain like wildfire. Much and John shared a cautious look with one another, knowing it best to let Robin be. Alan, however, missed this vital signal.  
"So what do we do with this Treaty now then?"  
Robin leapt from his seat, grabbed a small clay pot and threw it at Alan. It barely missed and hit the beam behind him, smashing in a cloud of dust.  
"Hey! There was no need for that! I didn't kill her"  
"Ele is dead! Don't you understand? It's over! Roy, Legrand, Edward, Carter, Marian, even your own brother, and now Ele. They all died because they tried to help us and for what? The Sheriff is more powerful than ever and King Richard does nothing. It's over."  
"Yeah, but what about.."  
"Alan!" Robin shouted. "Ele died a traitor, her body will be torn to pieces and sent across England to warn and scare people. We are supposed to protect people, save them from the Sheriff. We failed. It's over."  
"That's a pity" A deep voice suddenly interrupted their dispute. "There is someone in desperate need of saving."  
The Outlaws jumped into a defensive stance, hands firmly gripped on weapons and senses keened on the stranger. He was wearing a grey clock and hood that hid his face, yet his voice carried the grandeur and distinction of an educated man, and in his general air Robin recognised something familiar.  
"Who are you?"  
The stranger lifted his hands; no weapons but more importantly they were dark, a Saracen? He pulled back his hood to reveal a friendly face.  
"Tuck" Robin sighed with relief, lowering his sword. He and Tuck had met before in the Holy Lands. Tuck, who was only a Novice at the time, had been on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem when Robin was one of the many young men rallying to support King Richard. Although their meeting had been brief, it was Tuck who introduced Robin to the ideas of the Qur'an, not that he studied it before he spilt Saracen blood of course. Tuck smiled a greeting and the rest of the outlaws lowered their weapons.  
"Robin" Now adopting a sterner tone, "Lady Eleanor is alive."  
As Tuck explained the Sheriff's ploy to demoralise the Outlaws and destroy 'Robin Hood', Robin gradually turned back to what he had been the previous day. Once he learnt where Ele was being held he sheathed his sword, picked up his bow, loaded his quiver with fresh arrows and slung it over his shoulder. He was about to leave with Tuck when Much called him back.  
"Wait, don't you think we should plan."  
"Much, we break into the castle practically every week."  
John and Alan shrugged and followed Robin's lead.  
"But we always plan" Much whimpered before running after his comrades.

Tuck lead the gang, disguised as monks, through the Castle gates. Once again the castle security had proved nothing but lapsed, you'd think after three years of fending off Outlaws they would have tightened security a little (especially not falling for the disguise tactic). Once inside the castle the gang split up; Robin would find Ele while the others emptied the strong room that Vasey had been so proud of filling. Swift as an arrow, light as dew, Robin hurried silently along the corridors, passing door after door, climbing stair after stair. Finally, ahead Robin saw the large wooden doors that led into the Sheriff's private chambers. He prepared himself, who knows what the Sheriff may have done to Ele. However, to his surprise he found Ele sitting serenely at the window.  
"Took your time" She said with flippant expression. Although he hated her bitter tone Robin couldn't deny the pleasant relief of seeing her alive and apparently unharmed. Robin smiled, furrowing his brow a little.  
"Not even a stay in the Dungeons can change you can they"  
Ele wore mock scorn and sprung up from her place. "I've had worse…So how are we getting out?" A single eyebrow raised in question.  
"Trust me, I have a plan… Well, half a plan"  
Ele glared at him and shook her head a little.  
"I love it when you look at me like that" Robin bared a cocky, confident grin.  
"One part brave, three parts fool." She huffed, Robin winked at her still wearing his signature grin. He began for the doors.  
"Hold on, not without my affects" Ele squeaked, then in a single bound she was stood at the table stuffing her box and the Sheriff's documents into the bag. With her mask hanging around her neck and bag draped over her shoulder Ele caught up to Robin.  
"Call it collateral."  
Robin gave a slight laugh. "I hope you'll be better at escaping this time than you were in the forest" giving her a cheeky grin.  
"Please, I put the 'laughter' in 'manslaughter'." Side by side they pulled open the doors, freedom so near except for Vasey and three guards waiting directly outside. Their hearts sank when they saw the Sheriff standing before them. However, Robin quickly took to the offensive and drew his sword to Vasey's neck.  
"Well" The Sheriff sighed, his head tilted away from the sharp blade. "At least this time you bought a beautiful woman."  
Robin pressed the sword a little more, pressing the flesh but not quite piercing it.  
"I once said if you ever hurt another innocent person to get to me again, I would kill you."  
"Oh no, oh mummy I'm frightened. Robin Hood says he's going to kill me oh, lah-di-dah. You forget; I die, Nottingham goes bye bye" The Sheriff took a suddenly step back and his guards moved on the escapees.  
"Bye bye"  
The biggest of the guards lunged at Robin. Robin reacted instantly, deflecting the blow with his sword and slicing against one of the other guards. Ele grabbed the wrist of the guard who had attempted the first blow. She gripped it hard and twisted it sharply, there was the crack of bone and the guard dropped his sword in agony. She picked up the weapon and punched its former bearer with her balled fist at the hilt. Two down, one standing. The remaining guard cowered and began to back away. Robin and Ele exchanged a knowing look and punched the guard in unison. The Sheriff was no where to be seen, in the confusion of the fight he had disappeared. Around them came the sounds of the Castle going into alarm; obviously Vasey didn't have much faith in his guards. Robin and Ele ran. They hurtled though the castle and regrouped with the Outlaws outside the strong room, the thundering of boots on their tail.  
"Time to go!" Robin yelled as he and Ele whipped round the corner. Without another thought they ran leaving the strong room half empty, the bags of gold weighing them down. Robin could see daylight from the courtyard ahead, they were almost free. Then a dark figure stepped into the light and blocked the way. Behind, guards were gathering.  
"Robin" The shadow murmured.  
"Gisborne."  
Guy ran at Robin, beating him with a fury Robin could hardly fathom. Shared hatred made both males fight like hell-spawned demons, blades flashing, war cries splitting the air, Robin maintaining a cold control and deadly precision. They were equally matched in strength, but Robin's blood burned hotter than his opponent's. He bought a blow down and scraped the two blades together, filling the dark hallway with the harsh metallic grate of steel sliding over hard-edged, lethal steel. Behind, the Outlaws countered the formation, guards falling to the floor faster than they could rally. The hallway was filled with the sound of slicing flesh, crushing bone, cries, grunts and the cowards fleeing for their lives (or at the very least consciousness). Only Guy and Robin remained, swords clashing, adrenaline pumping through their bodies. Robin hit high and Guy defended, seeing the opportunity Robin used Guy's position to throw him off balance. Guy hurtled to the floor, his head thrown back onto the stone floor, knocking the Sheriff's master-at-arms unconscious. Robin stood over his cataleptic foe and paused. It would be so easy to kill him now but why should Robin deny himself the pleasure of watching Guy squirm in front of a jury. Instead Robin delivered a swift kick to Guy's ribs before he ran after his gang. Another battlefield confronted them in the courtyard. In front of the gate stood several mounted soldiers forming an impenetrable wall. The riders slowly enclosed the outlaws, their only option to run back into the castle. Then from behind came the steady clop of a stern, albeit a little stubborn, military horse unwillingly performing dressage. Ele felt a surge of irritation that made her utter a curse. The Sheriff was riding her horse. Lupis was being made to carry the same smug step as Vasey but this particular beast retained its militaristic stubbornness. Ele eyed the horse and recognising its master he struck his hooves to the ground. When the Sheriff gave another command the creature refused to move, the Sheriff tried again and Lupis bucked, sending Vasey falling to the floor with an almighty thud. This startled some of the riders and broke the formation. Quickly Ele jumped onto her faithful charger, kicking her heels till the animal sped down the line frightening the shaken steeds. Some threw their riders, others ran out of the courtyard, others had their riders fall under the blade. In the chaos the outlaws attacked, bringing down many men and were able to steal horses. Now mounted they cleared the remaining riders and thwarted any foot soldiers who challenged them. Alan, John, Much and Tuck were already at the gate, Vasey had managed to scramble up the castle steps. Ele turned her horse.  
"it's just like you said Sheriff…" Ele called, catching a glimpse of a rather dazed Guy stumbling out the castle doors. "I always was the wild card" Her eyes flashed at him. She gave a laugh and shared a triumphant smile with Robin. Then, together they urged their horses forward, leaving Vasey in the dust.  
"Gisborne." His voice rattled "Tell me those horses' shoes are marked."  
"No m'lord" _Liar, one of them is. _The Sheriff steadily rose to his feet, his countenance far too cool.  
"Imbecile!!" He roared right next to Gisborne's ear.

* * *

**Again I apologise for the delay. Not many chapters left now! **

**ttfn! xx**

**P.S!!!! (Spoilerish)**

**Can't believe how season 3 finished…they could have atleast given Guy a wash before the end!! Surely Meg was waiting for him on the other side…Ooo afterlife fic - I call dibs!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A bit shorter than usual but oh well.**

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_"Gisborne." His voice rattled "Tell me those horses' shoes are marked."  
_"_No m'lord" 'Liar, one of them is'. The Sheriff steadily rose to his feet, his countenance far too cool.  
_"_Imbecile!!" He roared right next to Gisborne's ear._

* * *

The outlaws were halfway into the forest when Robin called them to an abrupt stop. The gang had fallen for the trick before and weren't going to be fooled again. Each hoof was inspected, except for Lupis, whom Ele argued was from her own stable and therefore couldn't possibly be marked. Each horse was clean and safe from leading the Sheriff's men to the outlaws' hideout. Out of danger they set off again at a steady pace, fully satisfied with the day's raid and rescue mission. However, the light hearted conversation and mirth was ruined by Robin announcing that they could not keep the horses.  
"But these would make attacking the Sheriff's men a piece of cake" Alan protested but Robin had already made up his mind, his argument sound from every angle; they could not feed the animals and the noise would ruin the outlaws' 'element of surprise' in battle or even lead a curious guard to their camp. It was an unfortunate necessity and eventually with reason Alan relented, all the outlaws did except one.  
"Even you Ele" Robin slipped easily off his horse than gave it a loud hit on the backside sending the beast hurtling off into the wilderness. Ele wanted to object but she knew he was right (and she hated to admit it).  
"Alright" However, she did not follow Robin's example, rather Ele reared the horse and turned it in the direction from which they had just came. Robin called after her but then something in the mud caught his eye. An emblem etched in the hoof prints, a wolfs head, the mark of Gisborne.

Ele slowed Lupis to a trot as they reached the road. It was late in the afternoon by the time she reached her destination and Locksley looked as though it were a burst of flames in the aging sun. The courtyard was cold and a little damp, and full of premature twilight, although the sky overhead was still a bright azure. Unseen Ele dismounted her horse and tied his reins to a flimsy wooden fence that stood just before the door. Then, with a gentle goodbye pat to Lupis' forehead, walked away; her hearting wanting to stay but her sense commanding that she find her way back to the outlaws. She was surrounding by thick forest before her heart stopped aching and the unheard, unseen voice ceased to call her. Only then did it dawn on her that she had no idea where 'Robin Hood's hideout was.  
Through the forest she wandered and though the sun had not yet set it seemed she had been walking for hours. After a while every tree looked the same as it's neighbour. There were no wild animals in Sherwood that would tear her throat as she slept, not like in France where wolves roamed freely through mountain and glade, but still the thought of night in the forest, unsheltered and unprotected, made Ele feel nervy.  
"Lost?" A unduly familiar and utterly smug voice asked. Ele sighed.  
"How long have you been following me?"  
"Only since Locksley" Robin stepped out from behind one of the numerous trees. He led Ele to the haven she would now call home. During her absence Much and Tuck had prepared a meal; hot broth and skewered squirrel by the looks of things. Once the gang were settled and finished, Ele opened her bag and emptied the letters out in front of the outlaws. Robin scanned over a few while Ele explained all.  
"There are the usual letters from the Black Knights, promising service and grovelling etc etc, but in the rabble there is a letter to the Bishop of Hereford promising.." She rifled through the pile and pulled out a letter with a large wax insignia attached.  
"promising 'the elevation so in debt to you once my ascension is complete.'. Vasey is planning a coup d'etat, an uprising, against Prince John and claim the thrown as his own in King Richard's absence" She picked out a selection of letters and handed them to Robin. "The Black Knights are raising an army and Vasey will use John's own guard against him. Vasey is arranging to make Nottingham the seat of the crown" She exhaled and pointed out an order for coronation jewels to be brought and sent to Nottingham.  
"Far from the river, thicker walls and a hilltop. Much easier to defend than a London base" Robin interjected. Ele nodded in response, passing another piece of paper this one with architectural sketches of a Cathedral.  
"Nottingham Cathedral, sight for Vasey's coronation. The Bishop of Hereford has been promised the Canterbury See if he carries out the coronation."  
"But a Cathedral will take years to build" Tuck added.  
"Then why don't we just wait till King Richard returns? Last I heard he was on his way home" Alan said through slurps of another helping of broth. Ele's heart sank, news hadn't reached the more northern provinces, then again it was likely Prince John was withholding the information on purpose.  
"The King won't be coming home." The outlaws gaped at Ele, especially Robin whose expression was a mix of disbelief and shock.  
"He is prisoner of Leopold V, the Duke of Austria. The price for his freedom is 150,000 marks, 65,000 pounds of silver to us. The Queen Mother is raising what she can, hardly enough, and Prince John isn't lifting a finger - no doubt he is in league with Leopold, trying to prolong his kingship."  
"And while Prince John busies himself with capturing his brother, the Sheriff can conspire without the Prince even noticing." Robin concluded with his brow set heavily with distress. "Then we have to stop the Sheriff" He eventually continued "But we six can't take on the Black Knight's army" With a uneasy sigh Robin paused for thought but Ele soon filled the silence.  
"There is another option" She said  
"Let Vasey kill Prince John. Millions of men up and down the country support you Robin. While the Sheriff battles the Prince we could train an army, a peoples militia if you will. Once the Prince is no longer a threat, and Vasey's soldiers are suffering fatigue and casualties, we attack and upon victory claim right of Steward until Richard returns. It would not be treason for we would not be the force killing a royal, more deposing a rebel, and there is enough evidence in those letters to prove both Vasey and Prince John guilty of treason against King Richard."  
It was a good plan and even the learned Tuck agreed with some of its strategy, of course Robin could not entertain the idea.  
"And provoke Civil War? Blood in the streets? No, it is better we put a stop to Vasey's uprising here. Cut off his supplies, steal his gold, bribe his Black Knights if we have to. When the King returns, we give him the letters and the law can punish them accordingly."  
'_Coward'_ Ele thought. Her mind was cast back to the quarrel she had had with Guy on the battlements just as she arrived in Nottingham - choose your words wisely for those said in spite will fall on deaf ears.  
"Robin, you do not work within the law" She slipped him the faintest of smiles.  
"But I am no traitor either"  
Ele had to fight the urge to throw her head back and laugh like a musketeer.  
"Neither King nor Prince has owed this country. True Prince John is cruel, manipulative and hedonistic but what of Richard? A gallant knight who has neglected his kingdom, need I remind you of the 'Saracen Tithe'? He allows his ministers to rule in his stead while he slaughters hundreds of Saracens, spending vital treasury on a pointless war caused by the Pope claiming the fall of Jerusalem being a 'punishment from God'!" Ele had to bite her tongue before she lost her temper to the childishness of the whole situation. A punishment from God, pah! The last she was aware God's punishments included swarms of pests, rivers of blood, raining fire, floods, sores and boils, and taking away the sun, a city being annexed is rather pathetic compared to the forerunners. A failing in the cities own defences more like, and besides if Jerusalem was the 'Kingdom of Heaven' why the hell were thousands of men, Christian and Turk, covering it in blood; apparently sharing never crossed their minds.  
Although Tuck shot her a disapproving look at her criticism of the Pope, it was Robin's eyes Ele locked to. He got up from his seat in one liquid movement. He raised himself so that he stood over Ele. The air was still as the two squared up to each other, it was tense, the outlaws did not believe Robin would fight a woman but his actions seemed to defy their reason

"Tell me. Why do you fight?"

The air was still.  
The early night was silent save for the wind fluttering through the trees and the slow crackle of the outlaws fire. Ele did not answer. She could not. She did not know why, just that she had been swept along in the tide. Ele stopped entirely, allowing her head to droop and let her senses drown her, the cool on face, the sound of Robin's breath. She remembered what had driven her in the beginning, what roused her while she bathed, having argued with Guy - not for revenge, not for an almighty cause. She rolled her head up to meet Robin's interrogating gaze.  
"I enjoy it" A simple sentence that defied logic and reason, King and Outlaw. Ele stepped away from Robin, a wonderfully devilish smile on her face and walked out of the Haven without a word.

After the argument Robin had been left to brood all evening, wonderful the power that women have just to exit a room and win the dispute while leaving the man eternally frustrated. Robin was irritable and no one could say a word to him without him snapping. As the outlaws withdrew to bed Robin's bad mood sustained itself; thriving off the heated conversation, repeating sentiments that ate at his core. However, more frustrating was when he stopped to question why he was so wound up over a petty argument. And it wasn't the only intercourse he dwelt on; into his mental montage added was his first meeting with Ele in Knighton stables, her pushing him into the lavender scented bath (which now looking back made him smile), her agreement to aid the outlaws from within the castle, and his climbing through her window when she had barely dressed. He paused on that thought, even though he shouldn't have. She was beautiful, that was undeniable, the memory sent a chill up Robin's spine. So like Marian, yet so different, full with a hotter fire and a innate stubbornness. She had the courage to out rightly join the outlaws rather than remain a silent partner as Marian had done. If only Marian had acted likewise maybe she would be at Robin's side still. Oh but Ele. True, she was rash, her recklessness almost getting her executed and Robin burnt, but was this the imperfection, the flaw that completed her character. Robin sighed aloud, his breath escaping in a misty cloud. He let his eyes drift across his outlaws; Alan already huddled under a blanket and Much drifting away over a pot he had been cleaning. All but the forlorn crusader. Silently he left the group, wandering out of his mind and deeper into the forest. It was a wild, seasonable night of May, with a pale moon, the air was full of the scent of green things, of flowers, of the land itself. The wind gently caressed Robin's face as it swept through the trees, the leaves and dirt underfoot cushioning every step, the tranquillity broken only by a twig snapping. For the first time in his life, Robin saw in the plain woodland the wonder he always looked for and always missed. As he ventured there came the faint sound of running water, like a moth drawn to a flame Robin was drawn to the river Trent. He emerged on to a clearing by the river and Ele sat there at the water's edge like a statue of a nymph, ideally running her fingers in the steaming current. Surprise transfixed him; Ele's loveliness struck to his heart; she glowed in the deep shadows, a gem of colour against the dark waters of that silver shell we call the moon. Robin's eyes took hold upon her and clung there, bound together like the joining of the hand. He didn't know how long it was before he awoke from that trance but those moments were sacramental. He did not move, but follow her with thirsting eyes.

Slowly Ele removed her hand from the water. She stood, took off her leather jacket and kicked off her shoes. Then, still wearing her leather riding pants and a light cotton shirt she dove into the night waters. The cool water refreshed her after her long ordeal. Wrapped in the current she seemed to forget all that she had gone through. As she broke the surface and took breath, there was a dim sense of having taken part of some strange tragedy came to her, but there was the unreality of a dream about it. She floated for a while, letting the river cradle her, before diving beneath the ripples. She opened her eyes and the dark waters held something otherworldly, pulling her deeper even though her lungs were screaming for air. Ele kicked up and gasped in the frigid night air, the sensation sending a rush of blood to her head that left her feeling light. That was when she felt someone watching her. Their eyes met across the water and Robin was lured close like a sailor to the rocks. He knelt by the water's edge where Ele swam to meet him. He leant closer, fascinated by the moonlight dancing in her eyes. Before he could utter a welcome, Ele's hands shot out of the water and Robin found himself falling forwards. Suddenly cold hit him with the force of a hammer, his stunned weight dragging him deeper into the black. Then he saw Ele coming towards him, taking his face in her hands and kissing him. No, not kissing, breath! She was breathing into him, forcing her sweet air into his starved lungs. As soon as his sense returned Robin swam upwards, savouring the fresh air, however, Ele, who had appeared like a saving mermaid from the abyss, had vanished. He dove underwater, holding his breath and again she appeared to give vital breath only to dissolve into the black. Robin followed. She was suddenly behind him, teasing him, silently laughing.  
The pair circled and entwined like two playful fish. Ele began to ascend but Robin held fast to her shirt-tail and was taken from their silent world to the surface. Ele's laughter came in waves, in retaliation Robin splashed her and the two quickly became children again. Eventually they grew tired of their game and grew cold. It was colder out of the water but the pain would soon pass. Together they collapse on the river bank, huddled under Ele's jacket for a blanket. Robin breathed into the night, his breath a steamy cloud  
"How on earth did you survive in France?!" The question was innocent and in no need of an answer but the Golden Moment, in which everything makes sense and good, had been broken. Ele sat up.  
"I didn't" She began to roll up her wet sleeve, bearing those little marks that put her past to shame. "Sick with ennui, that terrible _taedium vitae, _that come comes on those to whom life denies nothing. Always feeling as though I were caught on a wheel that wouldn't stop spinning, trapped in an endless cycle of passing time and little purpose" She paused for breath and thought. Ele expected Robin to object, to damn her actions, but rather he gave her his silent understanding - no doubt he had seen such things, if not worse, in the Holy Lands.  
"The mask?"  
She flashed a slight smile. "I wear the mask, it does not wear me. Twice I tried to escape that life, only to be brought back with my wings broken. The times not spent at prayer or embroidery were filled with constantly chattering females, and the chatter was almost always of no consequence. So I created a different life, the 'Valois du Lioncourt'! A somewhat grander stage name than the 'Night-watchman'. My aunt's wealth provided an element of security." She lay back down, her sleeve falling back into place, and let out a small sigh.  
"Even when they suspected me I didn't fear reprisal. Society, 'civilised' society at the least, is never very ready to believe anything to the detriment of those who are both rich and fascinating. It feels instinctively that manners are of more importance than morals, and, in its opinion, the highest respectability is much less valued than the possession of a good cook." They tittered at Ele earnest observation of gentry society. When they settled it a long time before either spoke again, too preoccupied in the glorious night.  
"I was always in Marian's shadow" Her voice held no spite or malice to the sentiment, more an acceptance of the unhappy truth.  
"I think my father was disappointed at my being a girl, not the much sought after boy and heir. I tried being her but her hesitation maddened me, it trapped me. I tried being 'the boy' and all it bred was contempt. I was younger than her but more fearless in the face of the unknown. At twelve years old I already felt a veteran and was frankly looking for a new adventure. In France I was delivered of one immediately. I fought against it all, you know what happened, and I don't regret any of it. It all made me feel alive, the sense of danger gave me delight. To think, it all started because I wanted their love. My sisters most of all. I am a nuisance."  
"Yes you are" He said with a smile.  
"You're supposed to say 'No'!" Ele elbowed him.  
"So what do the cards mean?" Robin's head rolled to the side. Ele reached for her leather bag, Robin trying in vain not to look at how the wet shirt clung to her breasts. From the bag Ele retrieved her box of cards. In front of Robin she laid three cards; the Chariot and Strength looking up at him and the third face down. Ele pointed at the Chariot  
"In the past you have had victories and struggles. You were led by a diehard conviction to defeat the Sheriff and forgot to be vigilant. As a result you lost someone and your fortitude was tested. But as with fire or taming a lion, you will get burned or scratched by that which you are trying to control. However, you must not give up. Keep your courage to persist and the faith to succeed. Only then will you reveal your future…" She turned over the last card.

The World

"…and become a legend."

They talked until the moon began to chase the horizon. Then together, Ele huddled under the strong curve of Robin's arm, they fell asleep on the river bank.

In Nottingham the Sheriff could not sleep. His letters were gone. It wouldn't take a genius, luckily for the Sheriff, to guess where they had gone. The torches and braziers crackled away the night, the castle filled with their stench and an ominous orange glow. Vasey sat alone in his chamber with the exception of his most trusted general of the guard, not Gisborne though.  
"I want every man and boy from Lenton to Worksey taken and put into my service." He eyed his general, a little cruel glint in their exchange. "If any should refuse… burn the village to the ground" The general nodded sharply and turned to carry out the order.  
"That's not the end of it general" The Sheriff called him back. "Gisborne".  
Vasey stood "He can no longer be trusted. Send some of your best men to Locksley and have him watched… if there is even the faintest hint of involvement with the Outlaws - arrest him." The giant doors slid close and although the die was cast, Vasey felt as though the walls got a little bit closer, the room airless. If only for some merriment, cause for joy - Robin's head on a spike for example or Gisborne tied up in the dungeon. But what songs could be sung now? No honour or glory left, not for the Sheriff, not that he had ever sought them out. Coin. Power. Authority. He truly was destined for Dante's seventh circle. Still, he slept soundly.

Deep in the heart of Sherwood forest a legend was waking. The early morning sun peaked through the trees and tore Robin from his rest to the sound of birdsong and the gentle rise and fall of Ele's breathing. A light breeze drifted over the clearing causing Ele to shiver and scooch closer.  
"Robin…"  
"hmm?"  
"Did you fall asleep wearing your sword"

* * *

**The most boring chapter me thinks? Yeah I know it sucked, it's more explainy and covering my ass. So yeah. Lots of speech. I like the river but though. Think is the least I've had Guy in a chapter. Next is better**


	12. Chapter 12

It was November, the sunlight slipping over the polished leaves that had painted the forest varying tone of brown and orange. Ele had been with the Outlaws for just under nine months without a single friendly exchange between she and her love, Sir Guy of Gisborne.

To the Outlaws' usual repertoire of saving villages and condemned innocents, they now had to intercept building supplies for Vasey's Cathedral, free shipments of slaves, carry out frequent raids on the castle's stores and fend off numerous garrisons the Sheriff sent in pursuit. Needless to say their over activity put the Outlaws to the hardest of tests and pushed them to the peak of physical endurance, much above that of the castle soldiers, even Little John was trimming his fatherly paunch (regardless of how much Much fed him!). Likewise the Sheriff had stepped up; Nottingham castle now more a fortress than anything else, an ants nest that proved a continuous annoyance for the Outlaws. Vasey had become more cruel and draconian then ever before, he pushed his workers to the brink of exhaustion and even when they began to faint his slavers would drive them on. The laws and sanctions were tightened over Nottingham and the surrounding villages like a noose, the slightest of crimes punishable by eviction or death. However, as a result, much to the Sheriff's dismay, men driven out of their homes did not fall into the castle gates rather they flocked to the forest where they soon found Robin Hood. The Outlaws' numbers swelled; a mixture of evicted families, Vasey's fled workers, and a handful of freed Saracen and Nubian slaves fed the mass, they numbered upwards of a hundred men with more joining every day. It was not only common men who join but knights and distinguished gentlemen; David of Doncaster, John's cousin Arthur A'Bland and Gilbert Whitehand, the man who had taught Robin to fire his first arrow. All inspired by the tales of valour and honour, all rallying to a call against corruption and tyranny. The small army was split about the forest, groups scattered across Sherwood to avoid detection and monitor the roads, nothing in their thick of trees escaped attention and the Outlaws were always close enough to call on friends. With the booming numbers of Outlaws Vasey's victories grew further and farther between. This, of course, made his hold over Nottingham tauten with an iron fist of war and suffering; taxes continuing to rise as the amount food distributed reduced. The castle dungeons were near overflow with those who could not pay and the Sheriff did not keep them well, many starved to death or were crushed by the mass of bodies - there is but a single grate that rises from the dungeon to the surface, it was intended to air the prisoners but now only the putrid escapes it, sweat, blood, fluids of all kinds and decay, pour from that little hole and no one, not even the families of the condemned, dare go near it.

Then again, Vasey had more than Outlaws to test his nerves. A fist too tightened around the Sheriff's neck. Prince John was displease, very displeased. Tired of Vasey's incompetence and continual failure to capture or kill Robin Hood, the Prince withdrew his promise that should Vasey die unexpectedly Nottingham would be reduced to rubble. Of course, no one knew of this except Vasey and a few attendant who had witnessed the arrival of the Prince's messenger, they were of no threat anymore as the Sheriff had their tongues cut out. Somewhat panic stricken Vasey and his plan to over throw Prince John moved faster than before. He had begun to form an army in late September; hiring Celtic mercenaries and throwing any violent criminal into service, excusing the force as a means to exterminate the ever growing number of Outlaws. They shout and curse, stabbing wildly, more brawlers than warriors, they make a wondrous mess of things. Brave amateurs, nothing compared to the outlaws, light of heart and foot, and trained in combat by the six veteran outlaws, each with their own speciality and secrets. They were a small army, formed in secret and trained by moonlight, all led by the hooded hero.

This brings us, of course, to Sir Guy. The once father and son, villain and sidekick relationship between Guy and the Sheriff had not weakened, it had dissolved under the weight of suspicion. More frequently Guy found himself left out of Vasey's plans, save those that endangered Guy's life most, and many doors in the castle which were once open Guy now found locked, his allowance cut and his privileges barred. Guy found himself spending more and more time at Locksley until he barely visited the castle anymore. First he victimised the villagers due to his lack of activity, then turned to drink trying to drown his lost of power, his influence, his wealth, and of Ele. In the few moments they had shared all were spent fighting or insulting as she ran with outlaws. It broke his heart, not that he would ever admit such softness. He loved her. Down to the darkest, loneliest part of him, he loved Ele. Her pale skin, her independent nature, he wanted her in his life and not as an enemy. Selfishly, dangerously, he wanted nothing but to keep her for the rest of his days. Typical that these revelations only came when he lay paralysed on his bed in a drunken stupor. Sober he was consumed with his lust for power and jealousy; resentment of those who had taken his position in the castle and envious that Ele, like her sister, had chosen Robin. However, such thoughts could be easily blotted out by another bottle of wine.

The sun peaking through the lower canopy of leaves brought Ele out her daze. She would have to leave soon if she was to reach Lincoln before nightfall.  
"Ele!" It was Bell, a girl of similar age to Ele who had joined the outlaws after her family were evicted from the village of Klun. Ele's version of Much in terms of loyalty and friendship but minus the snivelling. Her hair was lighter than Ele's and shorter too. She was pretty, though not on par with Ele, however, had it not been for the scars of field work or farmers tan, Ele and she may have been rivals. Ele greeted her friend and bade she walk with her. They dawdled for sometime, talking of everything and nothing while the Lincoln rendezvous played on Ele's mind.  
"Robin is very fond of you" Bell chirped hiding her own disappointment.  
"I know" Ele replied solemnly, _too fond. _It had begun the morning on the river bank and his affections, like ivy, were the growth of time, they implied no aptness in the object.  
"The feeling isn't mutual?"  
"Less than so" The duo reached the grove where Ele had brought Lupis very early that morning - never before had she been grateful for a dim witted stable boy. It was surprising that Gisborne hadn't replaced, or killed, the servant, then again an idiot is cheaper. Bell knew only half of Ele's plans for the evening but her loyalty inclined her to question as Ele climbed on to her horse.  
"Are you sure you know what you're doing"  
"Have I ever given you reason to doubt me" Ele urged Lupis forward to a gentle trot.  
"Wait! If he asks for you?"  
"Tell him.." _I'm not Marian! Every girl loves a bad Guy!  
_"Tell him, everything we do is a choice" Ele smiled a mischievous grin and kicked her heels.

The journey to Lincoln was long, though not as far as London, and made worse by the numerous Nottingham guard posts Ele had to avoid. The roads were muddy after the Autumn rain and slick with wet leaves, Lupis' hooves skidding across them and nearly causing him to loose his footing more than once. It was an uncomfortable, but necessary, expedition, for the dying sun was still hot and the air unusually close causing Ele to sweat in her leathers and be occasionally blinded by a stray beam of light. They continued forward and reached Lincoln's gates just as the earth swallowed the sun at horizon. It was not late, half five most likely, so the city still buzzed with evening tide life. The streets were much closer than in Nottingham and made for Ele a fathomless labyrinth of alleys and dead ends. In some places the sky disappeared where the buildings drew so close. Around her, even though she rode above the _vox populi, _it smelt of sweat, meat and filth. Gradually, as she ventured further into this endless maze climbing towards the Cathedral, her surroundings began to alter. No longer did she pass meat stalls and dark paths hiding cutthroat thieves, ahead lay luxury shops; jewellers, tailors. The ground underfoot was no longer a well trodden path of dirt, stone, clean and smooth stone, the streets were wider and at once Ele found she could breath. Here the wealth of the castle was not stored away but spent so that the city grew and prospered. Landless Lords, wealthy merchants, lawyers and artisans, scholars, labourers, shop keeps, servants and tenants, they all lived and thrived. After Nottingham and the forest, Lincoln seemed like a new world. She had gone too far into the richer district and as much as she wanted to explore, she must turn back into the poor quarter to find the tavern 'The Prince Regent'. Halfway down the hill she saw, under the light of a solitary candle, the battered sign for her tavern rendezvous. The tavern itself was deliciously filthy, a hangout for workers and wanderers, children of all races it seemed, speakers of a dozen different languages. Then in the corner she saw her man, dressed in a charcoal grey robe that hung over his face casting his features into shadow. Ele made her way through the sea of people, the dead rotting rodent crunching under her boot not needing to be seen to be known. She sat across from him at his table, he the incarnation of menace in his stillness.  
"The moon is a cruel mistress" He finally croaked.  
"For those who dance in the devil's light" Such secret phrases sound so stupid but, like the journey, necessary especially now with the Sherriff's spies dotted about the countryside like feral sheep.  
"Follow me" He stood, seeming not to move, and hovered toward the door, the people parting like the Nile to Moses and Ele caught in the swell. After being crushed against several drunken bodies and big breasted bar wenches, the cold of outside swallowed Ele. Her guide had waited for her but quickly took to walking once she was free. He led her across the city and back up the hill towards the castle but rather than take her through the gates, they went to the servants entrance. He stopped and took out a key yet Ele could see no door. He placed the key in the groove between two stones and turned it three times. There was a click of bolts and the guide pulled the secret door away from the stone wall. The door opened onto a narrow stairwell where a lone torch burned in its sconce. The guide placed the torch in her hand then shoved her inside, closing the door behind her. The only way was up. Ele had to walk with her arm held in front of her, the other slightly behind trying to hold onto the slimy walls, the stair was so narrow. Further she climbed into the black, the spiral staircase seeming never ending until it came to an abrupt dead end. It was not stone, wood and light seeped through the edges. Another secret door. She knocked and the door was pulled away, revealing a small room, one of the many that make up the grandest castle apartments. At the centre stood a table large enough to seat six, two either side and one at each end. On it lay a large meal and a bottle of wine, to the side of those, documents and a grand map of England lay open. Candles burned in each corner of the room.  
"Lady Eleanor" a familiar yet unwanted voice sighed behind her.  
"Really" He said looking over her worn-out leathers and dishevelled hair, god knows what she must have smelt like. Ele glanced at the door, well the bookcase that had been covering up a hole in the wall.  
"Please sit" He gestured to the table "I doubt you have eaten this well for some time". He eased himself into the chair opposite, playing with the fur lining of his velvet coat. Ele swallowed hard, she hated sucking up.  
"You are the most kind my lord"  
"I know" He flicked his hair in a rather foppish way. Ele picked at the assortment of foods - meats, fish, fruit and vegetables - each flavour exploding on her tongue in a barrage of senses after living off forest grub for the whole summer. She left the wine untouched, she would need all her mental faculties for tonight's verbal parré.  
"I must admit Lady Eleanor, leathers is not a look for you. A dress or nothing. Or perhaps a bath? I'm sure beneath all that filth you are still quite beautiful. But first! What news has my little birdie brought me." He leaned back on his chair, his hair falling back into his face calling for another fop gesture.  
"The Sheriff is planning to overthrow you."  
John's face plummeted "But why would anyone want to overthrow me? Am I not the fairest and kindest of all Princes?" John got to his feet, Ele stood also, he bit his thumb. _Big baby, why not suck your thumb instead.  
_"You are sir.." The Prince silenced her.  
"No matter, I shall have him arrested"  
"Sir, the Sheriff has built an army." The Prince stopped, his eyes fixed on Ele. He stepped closer till he loomed over her.  
"Eleanor. How long has the Sheriff been plotting?" He was not pleased with her answer, he held her little neck in his hand and squeezed.  
"The outlaws have an army" She gasped, his grip getting tighter. Suddenly he let go "Go on.." She gushed every detail of Vasey's plan and the Outlaws defence whilst Prince John sat silently, calculating the next move. Ele ended her monologue, the Prince remaining still with a vague look of anxiety on his face.  
"You will convince 'Robin Hood' to attack the castle. Having accomplished that, send word to me and I shall send you Irish infantry and siege weapons." A paltry 200 men; _don't be too generous John it's not like you have an entire Northern Army to spare.  
_"They will take a week to assemble so leave plenty of time. You will kill Vasey and any man who opposes you. And then you send me his head, along with Robin Hood's."  
Ele felt her stomach pitch, that she had not expected. The Prince continued.  
"The homeless men are to be sent back to their villages, the outlaws… hang them from the battlements. I will send a replacement Sheriff with the siege weapons and you will return to the duty of telling me he is unharmed."  
Already Ele began to work around his plan, she may scheme but she only betrayed those she did not like - the man in front of her for example.  
"The outside door will open when you place the torch back in place." He watched as she approached the way to the hidden staircase.  
"And Lady Eleanor, do you love me?"  
"Of course sire.  
"Then before we next meet, bathe!"

Ele made her decent, she was livid. Presumptuous, conceited bastard! If it wasn't treason she would have run him through! And she bathed more often than the other Outlaws too! But as always, the Prince had left a big hole in his plans, as long as he and Robin never met before all would go well. Outside Lupis was already waiting for her, clever horse. The ride back to Sherwood was far easier with the grateful cover of darkness and most of the toll guards asleep at their posts. Once again she led Lupis back to Locksley stables, the manor itself bearing marks of prolonged and sordid negligence. Oh, how hard she had to fight the urge to climb through his bedroom window. With all the will power she could muster, Ele turned her back and disappeared into the forest. She walked softly, as men instinctively do at night, over crisp autumn leaves. By now she knew the forest well, she had yet to, and even after all the months the sight of the camp entrance was welcomed indeed.  
Inside, Robin and the 'originals' were sat by the fire idling away the time with stories, however, the mood took a definite nose dive when Ele entered. How to approach the subject? Gush everything? Make Robin think it was his idea? Siege the only option?  
"Robin?" He stood and gravitated to Ele as one does when smitten, the moth to the flame. Ele took him away from the group to somewhere quieter where they may talk.  
"There are rumours of a civil uprising against Prince John, no questions as to who is giving them support" _Liar  
_"Vasey…" Robin looked concerned.  
"He'll lead it most likely. We can't let him get that power if we ever want to defeat him" Robin gazed into the distance weighing up every option and strolling directly into Ele's ploy.  
"We have few choices. Kill the Sheriff, maybe when he leaves to harass a village…" He sighed.  
"Why not the castle?" When in doubt play the dumb girl.  
"Too many soldiers and armed cavalry. They'd mow us down like grass."  
"We could make spears… long spears, twice the length of a man." Ele the battle planner, one more thing to add to her list of accomplishments. A good plan but, like a typical male, Robin had to lower the tone.  
"Some men are longer than others" He flashed the imp grin and leant closer.  
"Showing off again?" She sat him down.  
"If six of us can take out the castle guards, just imagine what a hundred could do." She grasped his hand in an attempt to use his affection for her. The attempt was in vain, Robin still refused - too many casualties, no way to get past the gates. Time to bring out the longbows.  
"There is a southern Lord who would support us" Ele glanced at him, hopefully he hadn't seen through the guise. "If we were to attack the castle he would give us siege weapons and his infantry" _Well only half a lie.  
_"Who?"  
_Shit. _Ele ummed, random named and preyed he was not a Black Knight.  
"The Duke of Suffolk." _Oh yes very southern, well done.  
_"Suffolk?" He was barely convinced. Ele enthusiastically nodded her head trying to look innocent. "One of the Prince's strongest supporters offered to help us.."  
_Double shit.  
_"An enemy of my enemy is my friend? Together we're stronger?" Robin's smiled warmed, nice to know she listened to him. He leant a little forward, pursing his lips only to be stopped by the press of Ele's finger.  
"That won't help you make a decision."  
"It Might!"  
Ele rolled her eyes "And who said men think with their groins?" That was that, neither yes nor no, helpful as ever.

It took time for Robin to agree, of course the letters to Prince John were written before hand. Finally, after much convincing that the new Sheriff would be easy to work with or it would be a return to the good old days of stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, Robin consented and battle plans were made - including Ele's spear idea. All duties, save for feeding starving villages, were suspended as war training began. The promised weapons and men arrived. Strangely, Prince John's new Sheriff mysteriously disappeared on the night of his arrival. He must have been attacked by a pack of deadly Nottingham squirrels… needless to say he was not missed.  
The forest became a hive of activity and did not go unnoticed. The Sheriff knew they were up to something and had strengthen the castle defences as a result, however, this the outlaws had counted on.  
The night before the attack many of the men had retired early, some were drinking themselves into oblivion, and a few others sat solemnly at the fires contemplating their possible fates tomorrow. Ele was none of these, as tonight may be her final her plans did not involve being alone. The men dwindled away, some to bed while others lay in their stupor, the atmosphere was heavy. Ele crept away from the resting, giving Robin the slightest of nudges towards Bell. But suddenly, almost making Ele jump and wake the others, Tuck called after her.  
"Eleanor, pleasure is not an end, but an accident; pain is the choice of the worthy, that it is best to suffer all things and do well."  
_Bloody priest, they must teach how to mind read in monasteries.  
_"_Dum Spiro Spero, _while I live I hope. I'm that little bit of hope with my book against the rules. Conscience make egotists of us all." She stole into the black.  
"Besides, Hell's just a trick of the light."

That evening Guy came home to his bachelor house in sombre spirits. The drink didn't help. The manor was under a deep spell of night time quiet and Guy walked into his room, looking very stern and rather pale, his pallor being intensified by his onyx black hair and dark eyebrows, the picture of a haunted man. A bath had been prepared in the other room even though it was unlikely he would use it, since he fell from grace he had let himself go hygiene wise. His hair hung at his shoulders, lank and greasy, the less said about his odour the better. He closed the bedroom door behind him. His head was heavy and near collapsed onto his bed, he was so weak, so tired of everything. Guy got up from his bed on unsteady feet and padded over to chest where he kept some of his most precious things. He lifted the lid, on top of all his treasures sat the betrothal ring he had meant for Marian. He picked it up, holding it up to the moonlight. What was the point keeping it, who would wear it now. Guy could imagine Ele living in the forest as an outlaw with Hood. She would be filthy and stinking from lack of a good wash, cold and hungry from lack of a roaring fire and a decent meal. Guy's love betrayed for the outlaw. He cast the ring away, the precious metal rattling across the floor. He trundled back to bed, wishing it to be a coffin he could fall into and be forgotten.  
"Guy"


	13. Chapter 13 M

_He trundled back to bed, wishing it to be a coffin he could fall into and be forgotten.  
_"_Guy"_

* * *

Although dirty and thinner, Ele looked beautiful to Guy, she in whose profound eyes God had lit the torches of the soul. The couple fell into one another with a great sigh. Guy scooped Ele off her feet and up into his arms, her feet only just touching the floor. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he kissed her, relief flooding him to have her in his arms once more. The kiss was hard and urgent, both lovers starved of the others affection for too long. His hands were on her, moving over her hair, her shoulders, her back. Her frantic kisses assaulted his cheeks, his neck, his collarbone…his fingertips trailed downward, tracing the curves of her breasts, waist and hips. He loosened his hold a little, lowering her so that she might stand and brushed her hair from her face. She wound her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his chest. His fingers whispered across the crown of her head, and then his arms were closed around her. He pressed her to his body as tightly as he could manage.  
_Don't ever let go_ he thought, looking down at her delicate face, wet with perspiration and tears, and into the shining eyes of his love.  
"You look terrible" Ele giggled as she struggled to run her fingers through his greasy locks. She took hold of his hands, rubbing his course palms with her thumb. "Let's take a bath."  
Guy followed Ele into the next room with no objection. Ele stopped by his bath, it was full but the water had grown tepid. She began to undo the fastenings of his leather jacket, the cold of her hands suddenly on his hot flesh making Guy release the slightest of gasps. Ele eased off the jacket to free his glorious chest. Now in the candlelight with the leisure of time to admire his form, she saw several small scars that marred his wonderful body - marks of battle and adolescent disciplinary, some deep some not so. Ele stepped back from him and began to remove her jacket and thread bare tunic, she couldn't hide them forever. Guy's vision wandered over her exposed torso, so more exquisite than any swooning tavern wench. His eyes lit at once on the series of faint marks that spoilt her flawless skin. Scars, tiny slices cut into the undersides of her forearms. As if she'd endured repeated and hellish torture when she was little more than a child. He abruptly took hold of her arm, turning it over, fury no doubt rampant in his expression.  
"Who did this to you? Your Aunt? Give me a name, I swear, I will kill the bastard with my bare hands."  
"I did it" She said calmly in a quiet rush of breath, "It was me. No one else, just me".  
"Why?" Holding her wrist in his hand, inspecting the faded network of brownish sears. It took a second for her to speak and when she did Guy could only stare at her in stunned silence.  
"I wasn't burying traumatic memories if that's what you think. Or trying to escape some kind of abuse… it soothed me. When I grew annoyed at the shallow conversations over dinner I would stick a fork into the back of my hand and I became calm." She held his unwavering gaze. He reached out to her, cupping her face in his palm, the profound warmth in her answering smile put an ache in his chest - snared in her tender regard.  
His lips gentled, slackening into a soft circle, and she pressed her mouth to them. As her tongue swept over his lips, Guy's senses were swamped with the heavy perfume of desire and sweet feminie affection. She kissed him more deeply. Guy's arms wrapped around her though suddenly freed from bonds, his hands grasped her hips, pulling her roughly up and against his body. Their mouths fought to taste the other, to sample and lick and nibble.  
"Ele" he muttered, and he was moving along her jaw to her neck, his mouth wet on her skin. She arched back, pushing her chest into his groping hands, wanting to fell those fingers over her tight nipples. His hands were there; on her shoulder, over her nipples, bringing them to their peaks. His mouth, warm, gentle, feather light , nuzzled over a shoulder, then down her skin to close reverently over her breast. He bent to take one into the warm cavern of his mouth. A gentle tug, and then one long pull with hot, wet suction closing around it. Ele arched against him as he sucked, her hand trailing down to the bulge between his thighs. He was hard and ready, and she pressed her mound forward. Her body missed the pleasure it had once enjoyed. She let out a sigh of protestation at his withdrawal. Guy untied the knotted cord that held her breeches to her, the pliant cloth sliding from her thighs with the softness of a caress. Her undergarment soon followed baring her pure form to him once more. Ele languidly stepped into the bath and sat up in the water, the little waves lapping around her nude body the way Guy wanted to do with his tongue. The tops of her breasts rode just above the surface, pink nipples hard as buds.  
"You're wearing too many clothes. I want you with me in here" Guy obeyed, shucking off his boots and pants to the floor. He wore nothing else, standing before Ele fully nude. Fully engorged and eager for her.  
"Come" bid his siren from the warm pool. He stepped into the water, sinking down to face her.  
"Comfortable?" He wanted nothing more than to haul her close, drag her into the cradle of his thighs and sheath himself to the hilt in one long stroke. He couldn't resist putting his hands on her. With a gentle caress of her shoulder he said "Wet your hair". She obeyed, letting him guide her head under the water, then back up, her long chocolate tresses darkened to a sleek black. She was silent for a moment, then she slowly lifted her eyelids, smiling at him as if she had just come back to consciousness and was surprised to find him there. He picked up the wash cloth to attend to one of those wounds a person easily caused living in the forest. Ele lifted her leg and Guy held her foot in one palm, carefully washing an angry abrasion on her knee. Her niche, dark gaze following his every movement. He meant to resume bathing her but the awareness that she was watching him made his hands still. Ele glided towards him through the water.  
"You've taken such care of me. Let me take care of you" She kissed him, a deep plundering with her slick tongue that forced a groan of pure male pleasure from deep within Guy. When she finally broke contact she was breathing hard, her eyes afire with carnal need. Her feet went around his hips and linked loosely over his ass. She bent forward at the waist, her fingers finding his thighs beneath the surface of the bath. She squeezed the taut muscles, kneading them, then firmly rode their length in slow delicious torment.  
"I'm not usually like this…"  
His groan of interest sounded strained in his ears. "You mean hot enough to reduce any man to cinders at your feet?"  
She exhaled a soft laugh, "Is that what I do to you?". He brought her teasing hands up to the jutting thickness of his sex.  
"What do you think?"  
Ele didn't withdraw her touch after his hands left hers. She traced his shaft and balls, then lazily brought her fingers up around the bulbous head that ached for her. In that moment Guy didn't want her to ever take another man into her bed, no one except him. The thought hit him with a savage rush of possessiveness as her fingers squeezed his sex, wringing a drop of slick wetness from the tip. When she pressed again he arched up tight as a bow string. She worked him into a mindless frenzy, driving him to the brink of extraordinary madness. When she drew off him, he swore roundly at the loss of her sweet grip.  
"I need you" she told him panting. With her hands splayed on his chest, she pushed him against the back of the tub. Then she rose up and over the heavy spear of his sex and moved her slick cleft along its length, sliding up and down, almost but not quite sheathing him in her warmth.  
"I want to make you scream" she whispered near his ear. Guy groaned with the pure agony of her sensual dance. He fisted his hands at his sides in the water to keep from grabbing her and impaling her on his nearly bursting erection. She kept up her wicked game, until she felt his climax knotting in his shaft. He was about to spill and she was teasing him mercilessly.  
"I want to hear it" she coaxed. Her juicy sex was inching down over the head of his sex, slowly, so damned slowly.  
His seed boiled up and shuddered as a trickle of hot liquid spurted into her body. He moaned, never so close to loosing it as he was just then. Ele's tightness enveloped him further. The tiny muscles inside her clenched at him as she sank lower on his shaft. He could hardly bear it anymore. He turned his head aside and let out a howl of anguish, torn in so many tempting directions, not the least of which was the pressure to come inside Ele, filling her with every drop of his passion. He shouted a curse, and then he truly was screaming, roaring a deep oath that only gained in strength as she sank down hard on his starving sex and wrung him dry, her own following quickly behind. Once his head stopping ringing and his legs regained strength enough to hold him, Guy wrapped his arms around Ele's back and started to rise with her.  
"You've had your fun, now I'm taking you to bed"  
Guy set her down before the bed. Standing over her he leant his head forward to kiss her but before he could claim those lips, Ele ducked out of his path.  
"Sir Guy, I am a Lady of Rank. You cannot have your way with me when you wish" she teased provocatively in his face, water droplets clinging to her pert breasts. Ele turned away from him and stepped up to lean against a bedpost. Guy watched her as a lion does its prey and only when she stopped did he follow. He loomed over her once more, however, this time he stood closer, so close Ele could feel the heat radiating off his chest.  
"A Lady of Rank who has spent a night in Nottingham dungeons? Tut tut… you never were punished properly." He murmured, his chocolate voice low and tempting. The tip of Guy's nose brushed against Ele's, and then when she softly closed her eyes Guy lay claim to her belladonna lips.  
"You never could resist a girl in leathers." Ele teased, breaking the kiss. Guy hovered over her; his eyelids hung low as those blue eyes, dark with desire, looked deeply into her, searching every corner of her soul and stirring every desire in her heart. He pressed his rigid sex to her pelvis, his expression registering some flash of danger but not harm.  
"Don't think you can get away with teasing. Not with a Gisborne." He growled huskily. A small sound of surprise escaped Ele's throat as she was tossed on to the bed. There was a tense silence as she anticipated his next move, his face menacingly close. His lithe body held her petite one under him; his hands explored her body, causing her to utter slight sounds of satisfaction, and he revelled in his power over her. He stroke the inside of her thigh and she opened like a book. Slick and eagerly wet awaiting him. Guy spread her feminine lips and swept his tongue over her tight bud then kissed her inner thigh, the taste of her precious nectar lingering on his tongue. He made small circles over her bud with his middle finger, gentle at first but not for long. His touch became harder, faster and insistent. Soon Ele was trembling with every flick, yet Guy was not going to allow her release so easily. He removed his hand, Ele making an animalistic whine of protest. Guy trailed kisses back to her face. She loved the heat of his lips on her skin, the mounting ecstasy building in her with each pulsating movement of his mouth. He glanced at her coolly, letting her come down her Everest before pushing her to the very peak.  
Ele was already soaring when she felt the thick head of Guy's erection nudging against her sex. She was wet, aching for him. He drove in deep with one thrust, filling her completely with rigid, volcanic heat, detonating her in an instant. Ele cried out and buried her face into the crook of his neck. Ele arched her back upwards at this most welcome invasion. She gave another cry as he plunged hard and fast, his arms like a cage around hers, clutching her tightly. Ele's legs clung firmly to Guy's hips and her hands clawed at his back or stoked along his spine down to his incredible bottom, which clenched tightly with each thrust. He was mindless in his rhythm, a force of raw, magnificent desire. She was caught in it and they fell into pace. Every push filled hr, every retreat made her crave him again. Guy was lost, engulfed in tight, warm velvet - it took all his concentration not to explode the moment he entered her. He moved inside her, caressing her most intimate place and relishing every sensation. Guy let out a heady moan when she pulled him to her. Their rhythm grew frantic now, each chasing their own ends and each others. A great surge plundered Ele and she came with a cry of his name. Her body quivered uncontrollably and she felt Guy buck and pound above her; his strokes urgent, his large body vibrating with the power of his own release. Guy emptied himself into her depths with his own primal cry.  
A long silence pervaded, the only sound their ragged breathing. Guy collapsed against Ele and she clung to him, her heart racing fast against his. They laid in each others arms, kissing languidly. Guy broke a kiss to gaze into her eyes, a lusty black with shades of something much more. He was in bed with Ele, both of them spent. She was curled up beside him, her naked body gloriously draped over his legs and torso. Then all thought was silenced as his lips found hers and together they surrendered to a private world of passion and love where nothing existed but them.


	14. Chapter 14 End

**So here we are... the end **

**Sorry for the long wait, this was really hard to write. I've done my best but not wholly satisfied. Feel free to review and tell me how much my writing sucks**

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Ele was sitting up drowsy from sleep, her bare hips wreathed in tangled sheets, her hair a wide mess around her face. Maybe if Guy had risen early she would have been tempting but Ele felt no seductress on this of all mornings. The day was very young, barely even born. Outside the sky was a pale pastel blue as it clung to the skirts of night, the sun still hiding just before the blinding dawn; somewhere beyond a rooster heralded in the morning and soon Locksley would stagger into another day. The world outside was beginning to breath and the Outlaws, especially Robin, would soon discover her absence. Without warning clouds began arriving above the tree tops. Gently Ele removed herself from Guy's bed and dressed in sombre spirits, she glanced at her sleeping lover and it broke her heart. She sat beside him and carefully brushed the hair from his face. She watched Guy's face as he slept, trying to score every little detail into her memory – the faint creases by his eye lids, how far his stubble crept up his cheek, the curve of his mouth when he smiled or smirked, even the length of his sideburns. She lightly kissed his lips a single hot tear escaped – it felt too much like goodbye. Ele's nose brushed his cheek, a soft, intimate caress that is so easily lost and forever denied by the glaring eyes of their friends. Then his eyes opened and Ele was lost. She allowed herself to gaze at his grey eyes, memorising every glint in those bright orbs and was taken aback by the love looking back at her. Both knew what was to come. With heavy and silent regret Ele pulled away from Guy.  
_I will close my ears and heart and become a stone. Please God make me a stone.  
_"I must go now" she said, her voice muted and monotone. Watching her leave was like Marian dying all over again. Guy gave no reply, only listened as she walked away. Then something snapped in him, he pulled on his trousers and darted out of his chamber door. Ele continued to walk while behind her Guy bounded noisily down the stairs. He took her forcefully into his arms and kissed her, holing her so close, so tight as though the faintest whisper might steal her away. His kiss was hard and almost desperate but she did not object, so much for being a stone. Reluctantly they withdrew their lips, Guy rested his forehead against hers and stroked her cheek; her reddening eyes had not gone unnoticed. The pair stood in silence, locked together in the clandestine embrace desperately trying to savour the moment. Guy swallowed hard, denying his mind anything but the precious closeness he felt now.  
"I love you" She whispered, so quietly that if the wind had blown the words would have been whisked away into the ether never to be heard. Ele's eyes softened, a small sob escaping, she smiled though as she felt his hand snake round the back of her neck and pull her into a passionate kiss. Yet, like before, it only seemed to say one thing 'goodbye'. Ele succumbed to him, allowing him to dominate her mind and body. In his arms Ele was lost in a sea and wished never to be found. Another cry of the rooster came screeching in on their world, shattering it back to unwanted reality, ripping the ill fated lovers from their paradise.  
"I have to go back" She muttered, her eyes cast down in despair. Guy held her tighter, he would not, he could not, let her go.  
"Stay. Please." He did not cry even though his eyes stung, no room for softness in a Gisborne.  
"Marry me"  
She melted in his arms, her vision broken by her watery eyes, oh how she wanted to say yes. She would stay but no, her heart hardened, she bit her lip and restrained her tears.  
"You cannot make me a bride just as I would make you a widower" She broke from his hold and walked away. She looked back over her shoulder "Don't go to the castle"  
_Goodbye my love_, they do not say it, there's not room for softness, not today. No place for weakness. Only the hard and strong may call themselves warriors; only the hard, only the strong live to tell of victory.

Through forest and field, glade and bushel Ele ran, skidding on dead leaves like running on ice. Behind dawn chased her. The blue sky becoming fuller, the surrounding forest coming to life as every little creature awoke. Even if she did arrive and the outlaws were awake, assuming none had risen too early, at least she could claim to have been washing her hair – it was a half truth anyway. Her legs grew heavy, great stone pillars tied to her body. A pain stabbed at her side and her lungs froze from the morning air. Then off in the distance to Ele's relief, she saw signs of life, home.  
Around her groggy men prepared their breakfast while companions held onto the frayed edges of dreams; a couple looked like they had not slept more than a few hours, deep grey bags engraved under their red eyes. Ele descended further into the camp where at last she found the Outlaw generals; Robin, John, Much, Alan and Tuck. Alan sat sharpening his sword, Much cooking breakfast, Tuck was sat in prayer and only John showed the slightest twinge of nerve, then again he had the most to lose today. Robin was making arrows, even though the skilled carpenters and smithies had been for days, and he barely looked up as Ele drew close. In fact most of the group were cold to her. She assumed it to be pre-battle nerves but she shot Tuck a warning glance for good measure, not that he took any notice of course. She sat with John and rested her head on his should, he didn't flinch. She didn't say it but she had an inkling of what was storming through his mind.  
_Please don't let him go to the castle. Please  
_Naturally she would deny such romantic or girly thoughts in any accusation but still they came, a gentle tide of pleads and prayers. Yet in her solitude Ele felt Robin watching her. His expression, as always, was open and his piercing green eyes glistening with betrayal, jealousy, disappointment, mournful regret and something that seemed like fear. A true hero stands even when he cannot and Robin was thus; the hard diamond case harbouring a wax heart which, although easily melted by a fair maiden, never reveals itself unless exposed by love or heartbreak. As Ele caught his eye, even though she did not, would never, regret last night's actions, a pang struck her that she had wronged him. How Robin knew she didn't know nor care to and although sorry for his misled heart she could not apologise for where hers had taken her. With a subtle turn of her head she gave him understanding but he communicated no acceptance. Robin abruptly stopped, out down his arrows, took up his sword and began to sharpen it. Ele found herself praying even harder that Guy would not go to the castle.  
"Do you think the Sheriff knows we're coming?" Alan gingerly breeched the dense silence. Everyone, possibly excluding John, thought on it. There was no reason to suspect an all out attack on the castle but Vasey had a knack for spoiling surprises.  
"He might." Tuck finally answered. "He might not. It is a common failing in all mankind, whether evil or good, never to anticipate a storm when the sea is calm."  
"It does look like rain" Robin shot a mischievous glint at his gang. Indeed, the Sheriff had little idea that such a storm was on its way to blow down the castle doors. An hour after dawn and the general assembled their troops, an army of free men. They are not great in number nor ability yet on they marched, with axe and sword, spear and shield, in the face of tyranny and injustice. Carpenters, stone masons, thatchers, farmers, free men all marched. They march, for their lands, for their families, for their king, for their freedom they march.

There was an air of unease for the Nottingham guards since they awoke. Something foreboding hung in the air, a great unnatural silence – the breath before the plunge. Each knew in his heart that today would bring change and nothing could forestall it. They paced from battlement to tower and back, a nasty throng of black clouds looming closer. A crack of thunder tore the sky, the rumblings toppling over each neighbour cloud as though it were a warning. Another sound came now, a roar that shook the bones of any who dare stand in its way. From the trees they came, like ghosts appearing out of the mist, hundreds of wild men, faces painted like the Caledonian warriors of old and armed. There they remained far from the open ground in range of the castle archers. The outlaws began to shout and drum their swords on shields, a racket like that of the mouth of hell. The guards became nervous. They lined the battlements with bowmen but a shout came from the western wall.  
"Trebuchet!"  
A boulder hurtled towards the wall, rolling across soldiers as it landed like a die on a table. The outlaws' trebuchets, giant siege weapons more powerful than catapults, slung heavy loads at the target, positioned safely in the wooded hills. Out of danger and better aimed at the castle with less risk of hitting innocent, albeit empty, homes. Robin watched as the west weakened, its men spread thinly and the wall breaking. He would feel worse about the destruction if he did not already know that all the good in that castle had already fled. Overhead the thunder came again. The outlaws advanced to the field. They lined across the plain, the warriors fell silent.  
Tuck emerged from the ranks to address all – a final blessing before the end for some. The outlaws crossed themselves, some dropping to their knees, as Tuck quoted Bible passages as though he were reading them.  
"Are you ready for this?" Robin asked Ele, he was afraid, not of death which he had faced many times but of her refusal, not out of cowardice but her not being at his side.  
"I would rather die here covered in blood than an old lady lying in my own piss. But are you ready? This could be the end of 'Robin Hood'."  
"Then let him die with your name on his lips." Robin cupped her chin but refused to let himself take so wantonly. He took up her hand and pressed it to his lips. Ele wanted to slap him but his eyes were so pitiful, sorry that she did not love him.  
"Fight the good fight, you are all masters of your own destiny." The men took up their weapons and spears were laid out before them. The castle gate began to open. A league of horse men rallied on the field while overhead the trebuchets continued. The Sheriff had betrayed a fatal flaw, _hubris, _easy to taunt, easy to trick. Before wounds and weariness had taken its toll he threw his best at them. Another roll of thunder and the sky tore open. Rain poured onto the battlefield. The ground descended into a muddy bog. The outlaws' war-paint ran. The horsemen began to charge. The clatter of hooves shook the ground, sending splashes of mud about the field.  
"Hold." Robin ordered as the riders drew closer.  
"Hold!" The riders had crossed nearly half of the field. Robin began to reach for a spear as the horses the last quarter of the field.  
"Hold!" Ele cried out as she steadied Robin's hand. The riders were baring down on them, a few metres more, a second more and the outlaws would be crushed.  
"Now!" Along the line every outlaw raised a spear. The horses were unable to stop and hurtled into the barbs, their riders were thrown into the mass where others remained helpless atop on their skewered steeds and left to the mercy of outlaw steel. The outlaws took no casualties, a good start. So began the advance ready to meet infantry. A volley of arrows was released onto the field, every outlaw ducking beneath their shield. In most places the shields protected its barer but some failed, leaving outlaws vulnerable to injury and even death.  
"GaArRR!" It was Ele. Her thigh had poked out from the safety of cover and an arrow, fast and hard, pierced her leg. Thankfully it had not come out the other side or hit bone but it was in deep. She could not walk with it let alone fight. She gripped the shaft where it entered her leg, sweat beads gathering on her brow, she tightened her grip. A great guttural roar of pain and relief ripped from her throat as she yanked the offending object out. Her leg was bleeding heavily but she carried on hoping the blood would clot to the jammy pre-scab in battle. There was a rhythm as each arrow hit shields and ground, twack, twack, twack. Then silence. The outlaws recovered. A call sent out and they ran again. More missiles hit the west wall. Another volley of arrows came, they hid, few fell. Then the castle gates opened. Men marched out, a mechanical drone of half-trained soldiers formed before the outlaws. Vasey's army outnumbered the outlaws three-to-one, good odds for any bandit. A horn was blown from within the castle. The Celtic mercenaries broke forth and charged. The air rumbled with a roar as the two forces collided, a great clash of steel and bone.

From within the castle Vasey order more arrows be fired.  
"But sir, won't we hit our own men?"  
"We'll hit theirs as well, we have reserves."  
The arrows rained down again, leaving little time to take cover. Outlaws fell but so did the Celts, more Celts. Vasey had done his enemy a favour. Another battalion were sent, untrained, unfit and quick to the slaughter. Vasey lost the field. The west wall compromised, the Outlaws flooded the city chasing soldiers back to the keep. The men inside the courtyard were busy blocking the gate while Outlaw archers picked off the scattered men on the walls. The Outlaws had prepared for a climb. Robin and Ele took to the wall; he supporting her lighter frame as she pulled herself up on the rope they'd thrown over a distended wooden beam, using any nook or crevice in the rotten mortar as a foot hole. Her leg was still bleeding and each heave brought more pain but she carried on. With the remainder of her strength Ele pulled herself onto the wall, not far behind Robin followed.  
Under fire from the courtyard the pair made their way along the wall to the lever that would raise the portcullis. The great wheel was heavy and slow, repeatedly they had to stop to defend themselves. As more Outlaws mounted the wall their task slackened and the gate was raised. The Outlaw army spilled into the keep.  
"Vasey!" Robin singled out the Sheriff midst the chaos below. As the Sheriff cowered back to the safety of brick walls, Ele's heart sunk. A figure clad in black leather trailed after the Sheriff.

Robin and Ele rejoined the generals at the foot of the castle stairs. The armies could manage without them. Together, just as done in so many adventures before, they stormed the castle. They met only a few guards, Vasey had left them outside taking only a handful to protect him. Robin had a grave manner about him but the softness in his regard to Ele was unchanged.  
"Find Vasey" Robin ordered, Ele would have objected but she knew to see Guy defeated would destroy her. So she ran, her mind focused on the task at hand with a fleeting glance to her painful leg so not to think of her beloved Guy.  
"Locksley" Guy raised his sword and rolled the hilt.  
"Gisborne" Robin readied himself for the duel. Guy struck first, taking a side swipe at Robin. He missed as Robin deflected to his right and spun to face his opponent. They touched swords, teasing the other, spurring them on. Guy went again swinging over head only for Robin to block and deliver a hard kick to Guy's chest sending him to the floor.  
"What's the matter Gisborne, can't keep up?" Robin circled as Guy got to his feet. Robin bolted at Guy, beating him with a raging odium. Locksley, Marian, Nottingham, Ele, everything Guy had stolen boiling up in Robin.  
"You deserve to die" Robin hissed as they fought. Guy managed a few hits but nothing that threw Robin. Guy struck again, Robin countered, spinning the hit away and punching Guy's jaw. He cut at Guy's hand, delivering only a scratch but enough to disarm him. Robin pinned Guy to the wall at the point of his sword.  
"You killed Marian" Robin drew back his sword. Guy prepared for the cold sting of steel. A woman's cry echoed down the halls. Robin saw the flicker in Guy's face and broke it with his balled fist. Gisborne could wait.

Vasey had Ele trapped. The pain in her leg was proving a great weakness and now she lay directly in his aim. Her sword had been thrown from her, landing out of arms reach. Around her the other outlaws were fighting for their lives. They had underestimated how many men Vasey had with him and found themselves outnumbered. Ele had taken the Sheriff alone only to be pinned under his boot. She waited for the sharp sting, the slice as the sword pierced her chest but it did not come. A great roar hurtled into the room and pounced on Vasey. Ele scrambled up and retrieved her sword. Robin's attack shattered Vasey's footing and he gave strikes again and again before the Sheriff could regain his bearing.  
"C'mon Vasey" Robin taunted, "If you start you can't stop. No rest for the wicked" He grinned as the Sheriff panted. Vasey flew at him, sword raised above his head. Robin laughed as he quickly dodged the blow.  
"You'll have to try harder Sheriff!"  
"So what's the plan hmm?" Vasey snarled.  
"Prince John will raise Nottingham to the ground and it'll be all your fault"  
The two clashed again, their swords meeting mid blow in a cross.  
"You were planning to kill Prince John. Civil War, blood in the streets. I can't allow that"  
They broke apart.  
"Oh. Is that what she told you?"  
Robin glanced at Ele, his ferocity quelled.  
"Did I spoil the surprise? Let me tell you another little secret, she's been working for the Prince all along."  
"Liar!" Robin flew at the Sheriff. Vasey had the upper hand and glanced off Robin's attack. They fought, their steps leading them away from the mess of soldiers and outlaws.  
"Aww, did we think she would be as virtuous as her sister?" Vasey saw Robin wince. "Oh this is precious! You really did" Vasey laughed under Robin's nose. "Even to the extent that she might love you" He sneered, his words planting Robin where he stood. "Did she promise you that? Oh she played you Hood. Haha, I think... She likes her men taller" Robin was fixed yet rage was bubbling inside him. "The black leather helps too." Robin snapped and flung himself at Vasey. But in doing so, Robin had disarmed himself. Vasey coolly stepped to the side as Robin raced towards him. Robin unable to stop, whipped passed him directly towards a window. He stretched out his hands to prevent a fall and though he didn't go flying out the window, Vasey stood behind him, his swords pressed to Robin's back. A final thrust and the fight for England would be over.  
"You know Hood. I always hoped I'd be able to finish this personally. Goodbye, Robin Hood"  
Suddenly just as the Sheriff was about to strike, a blade stabbed him from behind exiting through his belly and pulled up till the bone obstructed the steel. Vasey looked to the bleeding gash as the sword whipped back through him leaving a five inch hole and promptly fell to the floor. Ele was stood behind him, bloody sword in hand. Robin turned on Ele, his sword poised at her throat.  
"You work for Prince John. Give me one reason not to" Robin's tone and expression were deadly serious and full of fury.  
Ele rolled her eyes and sighed.  
"Men, always thinking in a straight-line. Always assuming I 'work' for someone" She guided the sword away with the pad of her thumb. "I can take care of myself thanks." Ele produced a small charter from her leather pouch and held it out for Robin. He snatched the document out of her hand and held it up so that the pages fell open. The pages contained stamps with the Sheriff's signature. Robin had seen this before, it was the record ferried from Nottingham to the Prince and back to prove that Vasey was still in office. Only now did all the pieces began to fit together.  
"As long as I stamp this and tell the Prince all is well Nottingham remains standing. What? Did you think I came back just to claim my inheritance?"  
Robin let out a laughter of relief and wiped the sweat from his brow.  
"And now you have Nottingham" She smiled. Robin grabbed Ele and held her in a close embrace. Remembering where they were, the pair ran back to the outlaws. Many guards either lay stunned, dead or had surrendered. The day was won. Finally all the fighting had achieved something great. The Generals celebrated with one another while outside the happy cheer of free men. The Generals went to their men; they stood on the battlements observing the triumph, their appearance only making the men merrier. Amidst the mirth Ele slipped away from Robin. The passageways of the castle were eerily quiet except for the dull roar still coming from outside. Of course it would be no mystery, if she were missed, where Ele had gone.

It wasn't long before she found him. Guy was collapsed on the floor cradling his sore ribs, defeated. Ele went to his side and held his face in her hand.  
"My poor creature" She whispered as he shrugged her gesture off. Ele fell back to sit beside him, she could finally tend to the wound on her leg. It was still painful but was no longer bleeding too heavily; in fact it had mainly stopped unless Ele prodded the open flesh.  
"What a pair we make"  
"What do the cards mean?"  
From her bag Ele took out two cards, the Hanged Man and Justice.  
"In order to gain you must give. Sometimes you need to sacrifice cherished possessions. You killed Marian and gained me. Once you have been the Hanged Man you never see things quite the same. Justice pares things down with that sword so that the scales end equal. The message is to do what's necessary, no matter how hard, how disagreeable, in order to gain. You have remained under the service of the Sheriff and now defeated by Locksley but kept your life. However, your future..." Her hand dived into the little bag once more and retrieved the final card.  
The Emperor.

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**Tah Dah! C'est Fini. Interpret Guy's final tarot card as you like. I hope you've enjoyed my story please review it if you have the time. Next project, probably a Tudors fic no doubt as long, or longer, as this. Feel free to check out my other stories or my profile. Hope you enjoyed the story!**


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